The Confidence Man
by OhMyWord
Summary: "The target is Isabella Swan, fellow graduate student. Came into a fortune when her mother died, she doesn't seem to care to do anything with it. Quiet, shy, just waiting for The One. I'll be everything she wants me to be."
1. Prologue: Who Am I?

Author's Note: New story! More at the bottom.

* * *

The Confidence Man

Prologue: Who Am I?

"Who are you?"

I fixed the bottom button on my polo shirt; it was dark blue and too tight. "I'm Paul Johnston, a girl's guy. She needs a new best friend and that'll be me." I smiled at my boss, warm, friendly, and open. My hair was cut shorter than normal and dyed a flat brown; my clothes were new, expensive. I wore brown contact lenses and glasses with plano lenses.

He didn't smile, but his eyes showed it anyway. "And who's the target?"

"Angela Weber, twenty five, heiress to her Uncle Thomas' fortune. Beginning to think people only want to be around her because of what she can do for them." I grinned a little at this.

"And how are you different?" His posture was ruler straight, but relaxing at the edges. This was the game we played at; he knew I had it all down, but enjoyed testing me. I enjoyed it as well; it was the only tradition in my life.

"Common background, I'm begrudgingly rich too. I hate the scene and I'm searching for something genuine, which I'll find in Angela's friendship."

"Very well," his demeanor changed, signaling the game was finished. "You have the apartment keys?"

"Yep." I pat my left pocket automatically.

He put his hand on my shoulder congenially, almost like I imagined a father would. "Best of luck to you." He always said this, or a variation of this, before I went on a job.

I nodded and turned to leave as Paul Johnston.

...

"Who are you?" He crossed his arms over his expensive suit.

I spoke with a thick French accent. "My name is Daniel Barrineau. I'm a struggling artist who will help a wife – cope – with her loveless marriage." My clothes today were a mix of formally wealthy and starving painter; I even had a few blue paint spots on my fingernails. My hair was different, forced down and a little greasy. My contacts made my eyes look almost black. I felt like the great unwashed.

"And the target?" He kept his arms crossed, this job was important.

"Lauren Mallory, wife to Sebastian Jacobs – real estate mogul. As I said, loveless marriage."

"How will you get in?"

This one was almost laughably easy. "She's bored, just waiting for someone younger and better to come walking by. She wants romance and foreign languages and promises to run away together – that's me."

"Did you get all the canvasses? And the studio space, you've set it up already, right?" He asked, knowing very well that I had.

"Of course."

This job had proved to be difficult. Her husband, who was sharper than Lauren, caught the two of us together. I let him get one good shot in, to prove to Lauren that I was willing to be put through anything for her. That fucker loosened one of my teeth; I had to explain to the dentist who fixed me up that I'd been in a bar fight.

But it all worked out in the end.

...

"Who are you?" My boss had on an all black suit. It made him look formidable, which he was. Even I didn't know just how far his reach went. He looked tense today, though he knew I was more than ready. This job was big, the biggest I'd ever been involved in – a long con. And I was right at the center; it was all up to me. If I failed, he failed.

"My name is Anthony Masen. I'm a graduate student, studying psychology. She's mousy, lonely; I'll open up the whole world to her." For this one I'd let my hair do whatever it wanted and I washed the dye from the last job out. I wore brown-gold colored contacts and shaved my face that morning.

"The target?" His eyes studied me carefully.

"Isabella Swan, fellow graduate student. Came into a fortune when her mother died, she doesn't seem to care to do anything with it. Quiet, shy, just waiting for The One. I'll be everything she wants me to be." I grinned; this was going to be fun.

"How will you get in?"

"I'm going to save her life."

"James has the address, twelve o'clock in the D lot. If you're late, he might actually hit her." He, very slightly, rolled his eyes. "You know how he gets."

I nodded.

"You have the apartment keys? All your school supplies?"

"Yeah," I gestured toward the backpack in the foyer. It was my actual bag from high school; it was easier than buying a new one and then properly wearing it down.

"Alright," he grabbed my shoulder in a gesture that was both parental and intimidating this time around. "Best of luck to you…Anthony."

I tried not to let my expression fall; I should have been used to it. Rarely did he ever call me by my real name. I was beginning to think I didn't have one. I was Anthony, Paul, Daniel, Christopher, and Michael. I was an artist, an heir, a student.

I was whoever I needed to be. And I was the best. I got it all. Every single time.

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**Edit (5/20/10): There's a little confusion for some people about the title; "confidence man" is long for "con man". That should give you guys a better idea of what "Anthony" is doing with all these women. If you want to read more about it, there's a blog on my homepage that explains everything more in depth without giving anything away. You can get to it via my profile.  
**

Author's Note: This wasn't the story I was originally going to post, actually it wasn't even second on the list of things I was going to post. But then, during my mini posting hiatus - writer's block. I couldn't get anything going at all, it was ridiculously frustrating. And then I was washing my face the other night and this whole story unfolded in my head. I'd mentioned it very briefly during an interview (the link is in my profile), but I hadn't thought of it since then. I'm really excited about it; it's a departure from my usual style, but not a major one.

Also, I found out this morning that I won an Indie Twific Award :) I won for my story Reality and Other Inconveniences in the category - Judges Awards for Special Merit. So a huge thank you to the judges and to everyone that read and promoted the story; I heart you!

Quick notes about this story - yes, it'll be a big multi-chapter affair and with luck (and if the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars) I'll do regular Thursday postings starting this Thursday. I just couldn't wait that long to get the prologue out.

Whew! Done!


	2. One: The Introduction

One: The Introduction

When my mother died, I learned a lot that I never cared to know.

I should back up for a second…

My mom was rich and not because of her own ingenuity.

Renee wasn't a happy person; I've figured that much out by now. By unhappy, I mean unsatisfied with what she had. To be honest, I'm not all that sure if she loved my dad at all, but I knew she loved that he took care of her which meant she didn't have to get a job. I like to think that for Charlie, she really tried for as long as she could.

The second guy was Phil Dwyer, the baseball player. He made pretty good money and they enjoyed each other for a while. At least, that's what it looked like in the pictures she sent me; I never actually met him.

After Phil came Mikhail Sidorov, of media empire fame. He changed the spelling of his first name to Michael, married my mother, and bought a house for her in Florida. He was also forty years her senior and several tax brackets ahead of Phil. Mikhail, or Michael, was nice enough, but liked to send me dolls on my birthday and major holidays though I was nearing eighteen when he married my mom. The dolls had those creepy glass eyes that never shut and eventually I locked them all in an old steamer trunk which I then locked in my dad's attic. I'd seen Child's Play, I knew what happened. Anyway, I guess you might say Michael and I never connected.

Michael died after three years and left control of his corporations to his grandchildren. He left Renee with enough money to purchase the Louvre if she were so inclined.

My mother passed away on my birthday, the one before my last one – car accident. I never really wanted to talk about it and my dad didn't push after the first, "I'm fine." I went through the grieving process like I was supposed to but it all felt wrong. It was hard to feel sad for a person I hadn't really known, biological connection or not. So I grieved for the relationship I'd wanted to have with her, but mostly I kept it all to myself.

After that, my life got a little complicated. I was my mother's only next of kin and the thought alone made me sad. But with it came an implication that I would inherit her inheritance from Michael. When they found her will in a mess of paperwork in her Florida home, it confirmed what we already knew.

The first thing I said was that I didn't want it. I told them to donate it to charity and then, as I lost my patience, I told them to set it on fire for all I cared. They asked if I wanted to know how much it was, I said no and they told me anyway.

"In assets and liquid financial holdings it comes out to roughly a hundred million dollars, give or take a few million."

I laughed right in the lawyer's face; I felt really guilty about it later. _Give or take a few million? _I thought about that, waving my hand so dismissively at money that would feed a starving country for a year.

The lawyer didn't react to my outburst; instead he said, "Isabella, whether you want it or not, the money is yours."

I looked at my fidgeting hands in my lap and, in my infinite wisdom, uttered, "Oh…crap."

...

There were many options considered for a while. I made a lot of lists, so here was my What to Do with the Damn Money list:

Option One: Donate the money to charity. Someone else could probably use it in a far better way than I ever could.

Option Two: Give it to my dad. You know, like severance or reparations for his marriage to my mom. But thinking of my mom that way made me feel bitchy and I didn't want to shove this all his way.

Option Three: Blow it. Buy a really big boat or something. I clearly had no concept at how far a hundred million dollars would stretch.

Option Four: Rent one of those hot air balloons and start throwing cash out over my hometown.

My dad suggested the fifth option: do something productive with it. I'd mentioned wanting to go to graduate school once and he hadn't forgotten.

"It doesn't feel right," was all I could articulate at the time. I guess what I meant was that it felt like Renee was paying me off, like as some kind of apology for our non-existent relationship. And anyway, I had a little money saved. I could get a job and apply for school for the following autumn without the extra help.

So I went with Option Six: Don't touch it at all. I got a job at a local sporting goods store, which my dad thought was funny, and combined that money with what I had already saved. I applied to a few schools that December and was accepted by one. When I told my dad which one, he gave me pepper spray.

I was moving to California.

...

On my very first day in the new city, I got into a car accident. My dying and dented truck slumped to the side of road where it immediately expired (for good, I learned later) and I sobbed behind the wheel over a whole lot more than a little fender bender.

I felt like such an idiot. I had no friends here, my only relative in existence lived more than a thousand miles away, I missed my mom or who I wanted her to be or however I'd justified it in my head, I had this stupid money that felt like an anchor tied around my waist instead of the blessing it was supposed to be, and now my truck had died, the truck that had gotten me all the way from Washington. I'd secretly named her Big Bertha. It was kind of the last straw.

I hadn't noticed yet that the other person from the accident had parked behind me and was now standing about a foot away. They tapped on the door and I could feel their anxiety though I hadn't looked up yet. "Are you alright?" She asked through my rolled down window.

Crying in public was on my list of ultimate humiliations, so her quivering and worried voice did nothing to staunch the flow of tears that streaked down my face. I sniffled and was pretty sure I was having a nervous breakdown, but I didn't think it really counted if you knew it was happening.

My voice was choked as I said the first thing that came to mind. "You killed Bertha." I didn't know why I said it; I was mortified. I let my forehead fall to the steering wheel and prayed to be beamed back to Washington.

"I killed who? Oh my God, are you _hurt?_ I'm calling 911." It came out like one long string of letters and when I finally opened my eyes, I could see her pulling out her phone.

"No don't! I'm fine, I'm fine," I rushed out, realizing that this all really was happening. I wiped at the skin under my eyes and reiterated, "I'm fine." _Just having a minor meltdown_, I added. _No biggie_.

She raised an eyebrow. "Obviously." She was biting the inside of her lip. "So, Bertha…," she started.

I sniffled again. "What? No, I'm not Bertha, that's my -," I paused, wishing I could shake my head clear and start over. "I'm Bella."

"Oh, well…I'm Alice." She seemed to study me carefully. I noticed during that short interim that Alice was really pretty, fine boned with doe eyes and a very short haircut that suited her. "Do you want to get a cup of coffee or something? I mean…we're already parked."

I nodded, regaining control of myself. "Very much."

...

"It's really…empty." Alice looked around my new apartment.

When I'd first moved to California, I rented a studio which was all I could afford. After my six month lease was up, Alice convinced me to find a nicer place. A break-in next door was my tipping point. Of course, this meant dipping into my inheritance.

_"I just can't, Alice. The inheritance…it's a lot, it's – it's too much." I rambled on, trying to explain that I wanted to do things on my own and how, in a way, I resented Renee for thinking the money would fix everything._

_ She shifted on her feet. "How much is too much?"_

_ So far, I'd managed to avoid telling her and the friends she'd introduced me to just how much my inheritance was. I couldn't bear to have them look at me in that way I knew they would – like I was different now. I didn't want to be set apart before I'd even had a chance to fit in. But I knew Alice took it personally that I wouldn't tell her. So I mumbled through the whole story about Renee and Michael and her car accident and how I was still determined to make it by myself. By the end, we were sitting on the floor, using the side of my bed as a backrest._

_ Alice curved her arms around her knees. "Do you think maybe your mom was just doing the best she knew how?"_

_ I tried to temper my reaction to that. "But, if she knew me at all she would have known…I don't…," I wasn't sure how to finish._

_ "To her though, this is a good thing. She was trying, at least. You know, to do something good for you." She rested her head back on the side of my mattress and looked at me. "If you don't do anything with the money, it's just…you're wasting it."_

So, I'd used Renee's money to rent a much nicer place near the beach and closer to school. It was a small complex, a quadrangle building with a Spanish tile roof and a courtyard in the middle. My apartment was pretty basic, but it had dark terra cotta floors throughout that made it beautiful. Due to the lack of furniture, most of that floor was currently on display.

"It's not empty," I defended. I'd set up my bed and had a slip-covered loveseat in the living room.

She did the eyebrow raise that she was so good at, but didn't say anything.

I shrugged. "I'll get to it." I was reluctant because new furniture meant more dipping into the money that wasn't really mine. I didn't see why I needed more furniture anyway; there was only one of me.

And besides, I thought I was doing pretty well. A while after Bertha's demise, I bought a car. I wouldn't have and put it off for as long as possible, but you couldn't get around Southern California without one. It was an Audi, a couple of years old and used, but it looked nice and got me from here to there. Alice was really excited about the whole thing and I came to learn that she was a startlingly good negotiator. Around her, I relaxed the purse strings a little and she was beginning to notice.

Mercifully, Alice changed the subject from my lack of decor. "I think Emmett's picking up some pizza tonight, wanna come with?" Emmett was as new to the group as I was. It started with Alice and Rosalie, her best friend for the last seven or eight years. And then Jasper, Alice's boyfriend, was brought into the fold. Rosalie met Emmett at the same time Alice met me and now here we were. It was nice, having real friends.

I debated her offer, but had to decline. I had class in the morning and these impromptu get-togethers often turned into all nighters.

Alice gave me a quick hug and then left me to my own devices in my brand new, if slightly empty, apartment.

...

My writing and theory class was twice weekly in the aptly named Literature Building. Unfortunately, it was at ten o'clock in the morning. Anyone who has ever tried to find parking on a college campus knows that finding a spot that late was next to impossible. I found that out quickly and forfeited trying to park in the R Lot that was closest to my classroom. Instead, I slid into a space in the D Lot and walked the ten or so minutes across campus.

The University sat right against the ocean and that morning, the marine layer was thin and I could feel the light sea breezes in my hair. I buttoned up my thick sweater, knowing that by the time I got out of class it would be too warm to keep wearing it. It was April, which in Washington meant rain and possible snow, but here apparently didn't mean anything.

I made it to my lecture on time and slipped into my seat in the back of the small classroom. There were only a few other people with me and none had been overly friendly. I wasn't very good at making friends – incurable shyness on my dad's side. So I kept to myself and took notes on a white legal pad that had doodles in the margins. This class was supposed to go all the way until noon, but the professor tended to let us out a few minutes early, so by a quarter 'til I was finished and walking back across the campus.

I put my ear buds in and started some music even though the walk was short; I enjoyed the small escape. By the time the third song was starting, the parking lot was just coming into view and by the time it ended I was stepping off the sidewalk and onto the pavement.

A lot of things happened then. I was reaching into my sweater pocket to fiddle with the volume of my music and off to my left, someone shouted – _"Watch out!" _

I looked in her direction to see who she was talking to and that's when I saw the girl's expression - shock, fear, and something else. And she was looking right at me.

I heard the music first, a car stereo with the volume turned up all the way, and then I saw that it was barreling right at me as if I wasn't there.

I remember seeing the driver, for a split second, looking at me. I remember the car was brown. And I remember thinking, _this isn't happening. _I hadn't even lived yet.

I froze.

And then something hit me – hard, really hard. But not the car, I heard the blaring music fade as the tires squealed and it sped out of the parking lot.

My eyes were shut and someone was holding me; I felt a hand under my head and cement under my back. Fingertips were very carefully moving through my hair. My first coherent thought was _what the hell is he doing? _I don't know how I knew it was a he.

"Can you open your eyes for me?" A man's voice, I was right.

I did as he asked. A pair of worried eyes looked down at me; they were oddly distracting. Brown? Too light to really be called that. Gold? Topaz? Amber? I kept looking at him, hoping he would say something; my mouth didn't seem to be working. He was wearing contacts. I could see the nearly invisible edges around his irises.

I was being ridiculous. I shut my eyes again for a second and shook my head to clear it; that's when I finally felt the pain. "Oh," I said, raising a hand to the same place the man's hand was holding at the back of my head.

"Yeah," he started. His fingers massaged my scalp. "I'm sorry, that was my fault."

He looked so genuinely contrite; I felt the urge to downplay how much it hurt. "It's…fine, I'm fine."

He breathed a small laugh, "forgive me if I don't believe you."

I realized that a crowd was gathering just on the fringes of our little bubble. "Uh…," I glanced around; he'd pushed me clear to the island on the other side of the narrow lane. I was sure I had wood chips in my hair from the big planter I was half lying in, what I wasn't sure about was why I was concerned with something so inane. How hard did I hit my head?

The man leaned in a little closer. "Do you want to try standing?"

I nodded, wincing at the pain. His hands readjusted around me and he held most of my weight as I stood. He didn't let go. I was a little dizzy, but otherwise fine enough. "Ok…I'm ok." I looked at his raised eyebrow; it reminded me of Alice. "Really, I'm fi – I'm alright." It was the growing number of staring faces that was bothering me the most at the moment.

He seemed to sense it because he pulled me further into his body, shielding me. His arms were around my middle and I was close enough that I could have rested my face against his chest if I'd wanted. "She's fine everybody. She's fine."

Some woman spoke up amongst the people that were slowly disassembling. "We should call the police."

The man replied quickly, "and report what? Did you get the license plate number on that car?" She must have shaken her head because he continued, "just some stupid kid not paying attention."

When I chanced another look around, I saw that nearly everyone had lost interest and was walking away; including the girl he'd been talking to. She took a couple of backward steps, an unhappy expression on her face, before turning around and walking onto the campus side of the street. She paused next to a nearby building, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched us.

I swallowed hard, trying to regain my ability to speak in full sentences. "Um…,"

"Anthony," he answered my unspoken question.

"Anthony…can – can we get out of here?"

He looked at me in a way I didn't understand. It wasn't just worry in his eyes, but a lot more things I couldn't attach an emotion with. "Are you sure?"

I wanted to answer right away, but didn't. I wasn't really weighing anything, just feeling I guess. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He let go of my waist and slipped his left hand around my right. It felt nice. "Ok then, let's go."

* * *

Author's Note: First of all, big thank you's to the readers. I'm overwhelmed by the positive reaction I've gotten to this story; you guys are awesome.

Second - I'm putting together a playlist and pictures; they'll be on my homepage as quickly as I can get everything together.

And C, or third or whatever - As you can tell by now, this is in both Edward's and Bella's points of view; the chapters won't necessarily go E-B-E, though it's kind of looking that way right now. I'm giving myself a little writing wiggle room.


	3. Two: Reconnaissance

Two: Reconnaissance

Upon first glance, it was difficult to infer anything about Isabella by looking around her apartment. It was nearly empty of furniture; save for a covered couch that had seen better days and a bed with a simple wooden headboard. On the whole, it was boring.

I let myself in after she left for her morning class, reminding myself that I had less than two hours before I needed to be situated in the parking lot. I wasn't entirely pleased with the idea of running in front of an oncoming car, especially because it would be James behind the wheel. But Isabella needed a grand gesture. Her life was contained and sheltered; I imagined the only adventure she had was through books. And, looking through her apartment, I saw I was right.

...

I'd trailed her for a couple of weeks prior to setting up the meet. I needed to learn her movements, time her routines, and study her friends.

Isabella had class every day in the morning - three times a week she was finished by eleven and twice a week she was out at noon. She didn't work and received only a meager stipend from the university. I ventured a guess that she'd saved a great deal of money because, according to my employer's sources, she had hardly touched a dime of her inheritance.

It also appeared that her graduate studies occupied most of her time. Frequently, she'd go straight from class to the library on campus or to a coffee place that had Wi-Fi before her cable was set up in her new apartment. She always sat alone. No one ever approached her and she never made a move to talk to anyone. Her body language gave off a very distinct "I want to be alone" vibe. She spread out opened books around her laptop, set her bag down on the neighboring seat and rested her elbows on the table, her arms like a barrier between her and everybody else.

Twice during my time shadowing her, Isabella went out socially. Both times were on a Friday evening. She met with the same group of people at the same restaurant; each time they sat outside on the patio, surrounded on two sides by lilac trees. It gave off a sweet floral scent that I was beginning to associate with Isabella.

Her friends were boisterous; they drank and laughed and seemed to have no qualms with personal boundaries. They were two couples, with Isabella acting as a fifth wheel of sorts. I wondered if this bothered her or if she ever felt lonely being the odd woman out. No matter, it would change soon enough. For a short while.

On the second Friday, Isabella got to the restaurant first and was shown to the usual table. While she sat there, a waiter not so surreptitiously attempted to start a flirtation with her. I had to laugh at his attempt as I dined just inside the open glass doors. I couldn't hear, but it was obvious that she was letting him down as easily as she knew how. When he brushed his fingers across her arm anyway, I nearly bolted from my chair. _She's mine, asshole_. Eventually, he picked up her cues and left her be, signaling for a different waiter to take care of her.

Other than the two Friday outings and a handful of trips to the coffee shop, Isabella never left home. One of her girl friends visited once, but didn't stay for long. The lights went out in her apartment very late every night and I thought perhaps that either she was a night owl or was having trouble sleeping. I could use that.

...

I did my first pass through her apartment thinking about those last two weeks and the way she seemed tired all the time. Her shoulders always looked heavy, like she was carrying some immovable burden.

Walking into the living room for a second time, I tried again to see its appeal the way Isabella might see it. Her place received a lot of natural light. It was neat, bright, and the dark floors made it unusual. She had the loveseat facing the windows that looked out into the courtyard and a little desk pushed against one wall. I sat on the couch, briefly. It was soft and worn in just the right places.

The kitchen was small and impersonal with the exception of two photographs stuck with purple butterfly magnets to the refrigerator. In one was her and a man I assumed to be her father. Neither looked overly exuberant to be having their picture taken; they sat next to each other in plastic chairs at what might have been a barbecue. In the other photo, Isabella sat with her group of friends on the beach. Her arms were wrapped over the shoulders of the two other girls; her head tilted to the right just a little as she mugged for the camera. Her long legs were bare and her hair was pulled back, though pieces in the front had come loose. She looked happy.

I stayed out of her bathroom and went back into the bedroom. Her bedspread was rumpled and it was impossible to tell if she had a side or not. On her nightstand were a lamp and a clock, nothing else. Slowly, I pulled open the top drawer. Experience had taught me never to be surprised by what I found in a woman's nightstand. Even so, Isabella's things caught me off guard.

In her living room and on the kitchen's breakfast bar, there were books. Mostly classics, Shakespeare, Austen, and Bronte featured heavily. On her desk were a few newer titles, only a couple I'd heard of before. My line of work rarely afforded much leisure time.

Her little bedside drawer, however, had books of a different sort. Erotica. I picked up a slim volume from the two stacks. It had been opened and read so many times it wouldn't sit completely shut anymore. I opened it randomly and read a short passage.

I grinned to myself. "You naughty girl."

When I checked my watch again, it was half past eleven – time to go. I made sure everything was as it should be and then let myself out. My car was parked down the street so I took the time to think over my next steps.

I was paranoid about this going down right; my boss hadn't been joking when he told me James would really hit Isabella given the chance. James was jealous and sick of being reduced to back-up work. He'd been at this longer than I had, which was really saying something. But he was short tempered and took everything personally. It made him unpredictable and prone to grudges. It was too dangerous, having him out there the way I was. As well, I'd noticed women tended to be wary of him. They were right to be.

I drove the short distance to Isabella's school and pulled into the D lot, quickly finding a spot near an exit. I walked to the steps of one of the buildings and leaned against the railing. After a minute, I pulled out my phone. There wasn't anything I needed to check, but I was several minutes early and didn't want to look out of place just standing around.

A few classes were letting out a little early, but not enough to get in the way of what was about to happen. My phone lit up in my hands – _One New Message_. I touched the screen to read the text; it was from James and read only one word – _Here_. My anxiety ratcheted up a level. I looked around, but didn't see him anywhere. I was certain I wouldn't see him until it was time to act. Fortunately, he knew exactly where to be so I knew where to look. Still, we'd only run through it once.

On impulse, I looked over my left shoulder in the direction of Isabella's building. I don't know how I knew she'd be out, but I was right regardless. Her hair was down today and I could see the thin wires from her ear buds snaking down over her chest and into her sweater pocket. She held her bag over her right shoulder and was very obviously zoned out. It would work to my advantage that she wasn't paying much attention.

As she came closer, I kept watching. Isabella was attractive, beautiful really. She was light and dark, cream skin and thick mahogany hair. Her limbs were long and thin, like a dancer though she didn't carry herself like one. Her mouth was full and soft looking; everything about her seemed breakable.

Isabella stepped from the grass onto the sidewalk and I put my phone into my jeans pocket. I could feel a sound like blood rushing in my ears. My heart beat fast and for a quick second I lost my confidence that any of this would work. I had visions of being too late and having to watch while James raced away, leaving Isabella's broken body on the pavement. I couldn't let it happen. It was up to me, all of it.

She stepped off the sidewalk and that's when I saw James coming around a corner. He saw me in the distance and, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. I heard the volume of his music go up to a level that must have been unbearable for those nearby. I tuned it out and focused all my attention on Isabella.

"_Watch out!" _The woman's scream distracted me for a split second and I thought, _shit_.

Isabella was right in James' path; she stood unmoving, petrified.

It was only a few yards, but I ran like her life was my life.

It all happened like I was moving too slowly and James was moving too fast. At the last minute, I heard his engine growl as he hit the gas. He _wanted_ me to get there too late.

I hit Isabella with full force; I wrapped an arm around her and used the other to help break the fall. I felt the metal edge of James' car hit my foot as we both tumbled to the ground.

Belatedly, I realized that while I broke our fall I didn't take into account just how hard I'd hit her to begin with. She'd landed with her head on the cement edge of the island that separated the parking lot from the pick-up/drop-off area. And her eyes were closed; she wasn't moving.

Quickly, I slipped my fingers into her hair and felt around for a cut or some indication of damage. _I hurt her_, I thought with more than a little guilt.

There was a crowd gathering around the scene I'd created. I wanted to say her name to see if she'd respond, but I wasn't supposed to know it.

Her eyes squeezed shut more tightly and I heard the smallest noise coming from her throat.

_Isabella_, "can you open your eyes for me?" I had to make sure she was alright.

She opened her eyes and looked at me. For an instant, I wanted to just pick her up and take her away from here, but it was only a second. When she shut her eyes and shook her head, I cringed for her, knowing how much that probably hurt. "Oh," she said, reaching for the back of her head.

"Yeah." I rubbed near the growing bump. "I'm sorry, that was my fault."

"It's…fine, I'm fine."

I knew she was lying, but was ridiculously relieved that she sounded coherent. "Forgive me if I don't believe you."

She made a face that had me rethinking my assumption on her clarity. "Uh…," she started.

Isabella looked uncomfortable in the damsel-in-distress position I'd put her in. "Do you want to try standing?" I was fairly certain she didn't have a concussion, but I didn't want to rule anything else out.

She nodded and I helped her up, careful to catch her if she fell. I held her close, still worried about the damage I'd caused. Grand gesture, indeed.

"Ok…I'm ok."

I gave her a look that expressed how much I didn't believe her. She was unsteady on her feet and I could feel her wavering in my arms.

"Really, I'm fi – I'm alright." She looked around, staring at the crowd that was watching her as if she had only just now noticed it.

I pulled her closer. She didn't like crowds, or being stared at the way she was. I wondered if she'd seen the number of men that noticed her just during the short weeks that I'd been around. I had. "She's fine everybody. She's fine." I tried to dispel some of the crowd.

The woman that had screamed earlier called out, "we should call the police."

"And report what? Did you get the license plate number on that car?" She shook her head. "Just some stupid kid not paying attention." Even if she had gotten the plate number, it wouldn't have mattered. It was a fake.

Everyone except the girl was backing off, but after a second she also gave up and moved away. I forgot about her and turned my attention back to Isabella.

"Um…,"

"Anthony." _Anthony_, I said again to myself.

"Anthony…can – can we get out of here?"

It was so easy. For being so closed off, she was so quick to trust me. I didn't understand it. I felt a flash of guilt, but again, any emotion rarely lasted for more than a second or two. "Are you sure?" I asked during my moment of weakness.

She paused and I wondered what I'd do if she changed her mind and decided she never wanted to see me again. It was something I'd never taken into account. "Yeah, I'm sure."

I let go of her waist, but grasped her hand. It was time to act; I knew what I had to do. "Ok then, let's go."

...

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind."

I ignored Isabella's comment and adjusted the form on the clipboard I was holding. During the drive to the emergency room, she'd told me her name so I filled in the appropriate box for that. "Insurance provider?" The black pen hovered over the space, waiting for her answer. It was surprising how many people didn't realize how invaluable the right combination of personal information could be.

She reached a hand out toward me. Not toward me, I realized, but toward the forms. "I can fill that stuff out, you know." Her face was just on the endearing side of pouty.

I lifted the corner of my mouth, teasing that annoyed expression out again. She rolled her eyes and reached for the wallet in her bag.

"So, what else did you have in mind then?" I picked up her earlier comment, fighting a grin. My question was blatantly suggestive and I wanted to see her squirm a little. I wanted to find her limits and learn her responses to me. So I pushed. "Hmm?"

Her cheeks flushed a deep rose color that matched her mouth. "Here," she said, slapping her insurance card down on the clipboard that rested on my leg. She changed her position to mirror mine, but then seemed to notice and changed again, leaning away from me.

"What's the 'M' stand for?" I asked her idly. It was easy enough to answer, I had to remind myself not to push _too_ hard or too often; I was still trying to curry favor after all.

She cleared her throat and said quietly, "Marie."

I filled in one of the endless rectangular boxes with some other insurance related factoid. "That's pretty."

She shrugged. "It's a family name."

It wasn't time to go there yet, so I changed the subject. "Allergies?" She shook her head, so I continued. "Medical history?"

Isabella snorted, an amusing and soft sound. She leaned toward me a little and I remembered that lilac smell from the restaurant. Now it was a little different, like honey or sugar or something. "I'd better fill that part out."

...

"You can't be serious," I looked at the sheet of paper and then flipped it over. "Isabella…it goes halfway down the back of the page." I hadn't known any of this; she'd been hurt _a lot_. I thought my ruse to meet her was suddenly very appropriate, unfortunately familiar, but still appropriate.

"Bella," she said.

"What?" I was reading over the abridged version of her time in the hospital.

"It's just Bella."

I flipped the sheet over again and kept reading. "I don't think you're _just_ anything." I watched for a reaction from the corner of my eye, but she bit her bottom lip and didn't say anything. I recognized that clearly as a tell.

...

I breathed a small laugh, trying to keep the volume down in the cramped waiting room. "Ok, what about this one?" I pointed to a date in her medical history.

"Tonsillectomy."

"Ok, that's boring, what about this one?"

"Fell out of a tree."

I laughed out loud, earning a glare from the man across from me. I couldn't tell what he was in the ER for. "Am I allowed to ask what you were doing up there?"

She'd loosened up enough that she no longer blushed every time I looked at her. "I had a friend back then who was good at all that stuff and I was just trying to keep up. I was with him for a bunch of these." She gestured to the form and then rubbed her eyes with her other hand. We'd been waiting for a long time.

"Do -,"

Her stomach rumbled before I could finish.

Mentally, I acquiesced to the sound and was about to tell her that we could skip out if she wanted, when her name was called. I went with her despite a half hearted and mumbled protest. We followed the nurse close behind while I calculated how many years it had been since my last trip to the hospital, my only emergency trip to the hospital in my life. _Ten years_.

A nurse and doctor checked her out and proclaimed it nothing more than a bump on the head, to which Bella looked at me with some derision. I knew she was fine, but my conscience – such as it was, wouldn't let this pass under the wire without closer inspection from someone more qualified than myself. The doctor told her to take some aspirin and for this, she was charged an ungodly amount, I was sure.

By the time we walked back outside, free and clear, the sun was no longer nearly white in the sky. Now it was late afternoon light, honeyed and miraculously clear. I asked Bella if she was hungry and she couldn't deny it.

I made a stop at the drug store for aspirin, which gave me extra time to decide where to take her to eat. She wouldn't want expensive, she might not even want to sit down, and she'd want to pay – which wouldn't be happening.

I tossed the little plastic bottle into her lap. "Wait 'til you eat before you take any."

"Where -,"

The small jolt from my speeding out of the parking lot stopped whatever she'd been about to say.

We drove until we were closer to the beach; it was nearly empty at this hour. I pulled into a metered spot in front of a head shop and motioned to the backseat where I had a blanket waiting next to my backpack. "Grab that and find a place to sit." I found that when I told rather than asked, she usually did what I wanted. This instance was no different. I walked a short distance while she went to the beach, and picked up dinner.

When I made it out to the sand, Bella waved at me like she'd been watching for my return – _good_, I thought. She'd taken her sweater off for the first time that day – it had been cold in the hospital waiting room – and was sunning herself with quiet pleasure. Her bare arms were nearly the same pale color as her shirt. She lifted her right one, examined her elbow, and frowned.

I saw as I got closer that she'd scraped it in the fall; I felt a tug of something and ignored it. Bella shrugged minutely and then adjusted her position, making room for me.

"Is this alright?" I held out the pizza box.

Her look told me it was. "Yeah that's…sort of perfect." She opened the lid and reached inside before stilling her hand halfway and giving me a sheepish look. "Sorry, um -," she flipped the box so I could grab a slice as well.

Bella ate facing the water and didn't say anything. It was obvious she was deep in thought and I didn't interrupt her, taking the time instead to watch. She held everything close to the vest and was a definitively closed book to the casual observer. It explained her lack of school acquaintances. She came off as shy to the point of unfriendly.

But that wasn't her at all, I was learning. If one took the time to see her, it was plain as day. Her every emotion and thought played out in her face and body; even I could see that by now. She bit her lip when she was worried or had something to say that she didn't want to. She looked down to form words when they were important and she looked me right in the eye when I spoke. I took silent notes while she ate.

"Um…thank you," she murmured, breaking the quiet. "I'm not really good at saying thank you, but…," she looked down toward the blanket. "If you hadn't been there this morning-,"

I reached over and touched her forearm; she was soft and I could feel the sun on her skin. I was about to say 'you're welcome', but it stuck in my throat. Instead I said, "Hey," and gave her a small grin, letting her read into that what she wanted.

She looked to where my fingers brushed her skin and covered the area with her palm, but didn't say anything.

...

I would have rather taken her back to her apartment, but she was obstinate about picking up her car. It was dark, the parking lot barely lit. I pulled up right next to her car and, having no logical way to prolong the evening, resigned myself to saying goodbye. She opened her door and said thank you again in a look that was more telling than speaking out loud. I gave her a nod and said good night.

Bella went around to her front door and then I couldn't see anything but the top of her head. I was going to let her pull out first and when several seconds passed and it was still silent, it caught my attention. I looked up from my hands on the wheel and saw that she was walking away, toward campus. I got out of the car.

"Bella?" I called out, "what the hell are you doing?"

She was standing next to the planter I'd nearly thrown her in that morning; she waited for me to come closer before she spoke. "I think I dropped my iPod."

I shook my head. "Do you really think it'll still be there?"

She lifted a shoulder and then let it fall, turning around to step onto the wood chips. She knelt down and ran her hands over their surface.

I thought I should help, but this was entertaining. And I knew she wouldn't find it. She searched anyway, like her faith in people would influence their behavior. After a minute or so, she sat back on her heels and sighed.

I held my hand out to help her up and she took it; she looked so disappointed. "I could buy you a new -,"

"Don't even think it." She refused quickly like I knew she would; I just wanted to see the spark in her eyes.

We walked back to our cars and parted ways for a second time. I waited for a long time after her car was gone before I left. My – Anthony's – apartment was nearly walking distance from Bella's, so I made a pass by her complex on my way.

The day went well, I decided, better than I expected. Bella was easy to be around and beautiful. I rarely had much of an opinion either way, but getting close to her was enjoyable. I put that away and fingered Bella's iPod in my jeans pocket. I'd tell her it must have fallen from her things in the backseat of my car.

And now I had a reason to see her again.

* * *

Author's Note: Hi lovelies, thanks for being here. You guys are really making this a great writing experience for me.

Ok, a few things: thanks to jedigirlsc; she started a thread on Twilighted (AU-H) for this story. I'll post weekly teasers and try to stop by to answer any questions...Also, a few pictures are posted for this (I'll be adding to it as I go), so check those out...I was asked how long this story was going to be - I have no idea, but I know the story - beginning to end - and it might be quite the journey...Another note, I almost never go over the same scene from two points of view like I did with the car "accident", but "Anthony" knows a lot more about it than Bella, so it was important in this case. And finally, I have a recommendation:

Metaphysics by anais mark  
Summary: Edward & Bella are graduate students in London 'coincidentally' researching the same poets. More than 300 years after the fact, Carlisle & Edward must find out why Carlisle's past won't stay there - before Bella digs it up researching her thesis.

Smart, amazing literary skill, I can't say enough good things about this!


	4. Three: A Coincidence

Three: A Coincidence

My dad taught me how to scramble eggs when I was a kid and our only family tradition was born. He bought a step stool for me to use so I could watch what I considered superior feats of culinary engineering. And Charlie cooked with gusto, using that store of energy parents had to entertain their children. He sang Journey and Springsteen and then would interrupt himself to say – _ok now, watch this, Bells. _It was like magic to me – pancakes! bacon! and the elusive ham and cheese omelet.

Eventually, we switched places. I cooked while he sat at the table with the paper even though I knew he'd rather be napping in the living room.

And when I first moved back home after college, it started right back up again. Except now it was – four cheese baked ziti with salad and bread, grilled chicken sandwiches, and his favorite homemade chili and cornbread. Not to be outdone, Charlie made breakfast every Sunday and his omelets were still better than mine.

I smiled when I read the text – _spaghetti, salad too. Don't worry_. Charlie had recently been taught how to send text messages by his new girlfriend.

My reply was equally short – _pasta salad with chicken__._ It was our way of telling each other how our day had gone. If I'd said something like boxed macaroni and cheese, he would have asked me what was wrong. Or if I'd said something more impressive like chipotle grilled filets, he would ask who was coming over.

I'd lived alone now for more than six months, but I liked the steps of making a sit down dinner, even when it was just for myself. And it allowed me to think, which was part of the problem I was having that evening.

Anthony, _Anthony what_? I had no last name, phone number, or even an e-mail address. I didn't know if he was a student or just passing by at the right time. I didn't know anything.

But I ruminated and wondered and thought much too much about the few hours I spent with the handsome stranger. I felt a little foolish. This wasn't something I did, or felt. People weren't supposed to spark with people they were never going to see again. I was the steady one, the quiet and pragmatic one. I didn't have silly little fantasies about the way his hands felt and how he touched my arm and how I really wanted to kiss him when the day was over. Except that I was thinking about all of that and maybe a little bit more too.

So, as a distraction after dinner, I baked. It was something I'd just started doing and so far I'd only mastered brownies and chocolate chip cookies, but I was able to lose myself in the steps. A dozen double chocolate brownies, a dozen peanut butter, and however many cookie dough blobs I could fit on the sheet later and I was still thinking about him.

In my mind, he kept getting better looking and I noticed things I hadn't before. Like how when we ate pizza on the beach, the sun turned strands of his hair copper, or how he didn't need to fill the silence with idle chatter. And how when he smiled –

Someone was knocking on my front door. I looked through my peep hole and grinned at who I saw there. I pulled the door open.

"Emmett, you have perfect timing." "It smells like chocolate." We both started at the same time.

He walked in and spied the many baked things sitting on the breakfast bar; he followed this with one of his patented little boy smiles. It was how he got Rosalie to go out with him in the beginning.

"Go ahead," I gestured to one of the pans. "Not those ones, they have peanut butter." Emmett was allergic. Rose carried an EpiPen around in her purse all the time, just in case. I'd even started buying safe foods to bake with after he first mentioned his affection for my cooking.

There was something about Emmett, we all noticed, that made us want to take care of him. Even if he was a giant bear of a man.

He grabbed a square of chocolate and shoved half of it in his mouth. "I have your bookcase," he said around the large bite.

I'd gone out with Alice earlier in the day for lunch and wound up with the new furniture; I still wasn't sure how she'd done it. "Thanks." Emmett had jumped at the offer to put it together for me, but that meant doing it as his place as it afforded him more space and all his tools. He also knew how much Rosalie liked watching him work with his hands which meant she was conveniently invited over for the show.

"So," he took a second brownie. "What's going on here?" He glanced around at my batter, egg, and powdered sugar mess.

"What? Nothing, just baking stuff, you know…Saturday night with nothing to do…," I rambled on, my ability to lie being mediocre at best. I tended to wear my heart, my whole life really, on my sleeve. I spent half my time trying to cover it up.

"I met someone," I blurted out when Emmett wouldn't stop staring. "But it's nothing; it was just a one time freak thing -,"

His eyes got big, "did you have a one night stand? Bella," he smiled, looking impressed. "I didn't think you had it in you."

I flushed and told him that had not been the case. But try as I might, he knew something was there and I could only imagine the sordid things he was going to tell Rosalie later. Which meant that I might as well tell everyone what happened because Emmett was a bit of a gossip. As a thank you and a bribe, I put a bunch of the chocolate chip cookies and as many brownies as I could fit into a plastic container while he went down to get my new bookcase.

He brought it up and inside by himself after refusing my help, only asking where I wanted it. It was nearly five feet wide and a bit over two feet tall, made of a solid, heavy wood. Emmett carried it as if it were a briefcase. He set it down beneath the window that overlooked the courtyard, pushing and pulling until it was centered. "There you go," he brushed his hands on his pant legs.

"Thanks Em." I held out his Tupperware container and something occurred to me.

Emmett raised his eyebrows, but didn't ask anything.

"Hey…," I started.

"What's up?" He tucked the plastic underneath one arm and pulled his truck keys out of his pocket.

"How did you get in here? I mean, how did you get past the gate without buzzing my apartment?" It hadn't registered at first that he'd simply shown up at my front door.

"Oh, your gate's broken or something; I just pushed it and it opened." As a signal for the end to our conversation, his cell phone rang. He grabbed it while I held the door open and mouthed a silent goodbye.

I took the next few minutes to clean up the kitchen and get the trash together, trying not to wonder if this was what normal twenty something's did on Saturday nights. I tied up the garbage bag and grabbed my keys; Charlie's paranoia over my safety had me locking the door every time it was shut. This included the two or three minutes it would take me to haul the trash out to the back dumpster.

It wasn't cold outside, but it was damp in a way that reminded me of home and Charlie and the smell of the rain on the pavement. He was entertaining Sue this evening, the new woman in his life and the only one I knew of since Renee. Rosalie and Emmett were vegetating together, I was pretty sure. I thought about calling Rose anyway, but we didn't really know each other well enough for a spontaneous chat. Plus, the last time I'd called I'd interrupted her in the throes and that was a mistake I was loathe to make again. Alice and Jasper were having date night.

With one hand, I shoved open the dumpster lid and with the other, I tossed in the heavy plastic bag. The lid came back down with a resounding slap and I turned to head back inside, using the too dim lighting to find my way through the courtyard.

Back home in Washington, I was never afraid of being outside alone, in the dark. There, I was more likely to startle a deer than to come across a violent predator. But the quiet here tonight had me picking up my pace and I felt like I wasn't alone. Which was silly, I convinced myself, because I _wasn't _alone. There were people in apartments all around me; I was perfectly safe.

Just as that feeling was sinking in, I heard movement to my right, footsteps maybe. I stepped into the brighter light of the stairs and gripped the railing, jogging up the steps two at a time. Which would have been fine, if I'd been blessed with better coordination.

I tripped halfway up and slammed my knee hard into the stone edge. I hissed and muttered something that could have been "shit" if I'd actually finished saying the word.

"Hey, are you alright?" A male voice called up from a few yards away. It was a voice I recognized.

"…Anthony?" I was hunched over, rubbing my knee through my jeans. It probably gave him a pretty good view of my backside; I righted myself before I could expand on that thought.

He was at the foot of the stairs, a little grin on his face. "Why do I get the feeling keeping you in one piece would be a full time job?"

I would have given him attitude about it if he hadn't been right. Instead, I stood there dumbly, my thoughts jumbled in several directions. He put me off balance when he came around and I didn't know what to say or what to do with my hands. It was automatic, maybe a chemical thing. "What uh…what are you doing here?"

He took one step up. "It's nice to see you, too."

"Sorry, I – I didn't mean…," I wasn't sure which question to ask. Did he live in this complex too? I hadn't been here long, but I surely would have noticed him by now. Was he here to see me? Why? And more importantly, how did he know where I lived? I'd discovered over the years that I tended to question everything; I didn't know if that's just how I was or it if had to do with being a cop's kid.

He took another step up, which put him about five stairs down from me and already I could feel him. "It's alright," he said, an easy smile still on his face. "I was visiting a friend. He lives in that corner apartment." He motioned behind me.

Another step; he kept one hand on the railing. "You live here?"

I nodded, feeling a sort of hum or vibration across my skin.

He moved again, stopping when he was on the step below me. We were just about the same height this way. His eyes moved over my face before he spoke and I noticed again that he wore contacts; I wondered if the amber color was natural. "Can I come in?"

Instead of saying anything, I gestured vaguely toward my apartment. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Yeah." I turned around and took a breath, hoping he'd just follow me. Anthony had that clean man smell that was really distracting - no overly done cologne or body spray, just soap and skin.

When I got to my front door, I pulled out my keys and did a quick mental inventory of how neat my apartment was. It would have to do, I concluded. The boxes from my move had all been thrown out with the exception of the few that held books in my closet, the kitchen was freshly wiped down, and the new bookcase made my living room look less empty (though there was nothing in it yet). And my bed was made, not that anything was going to lead in that direction. I unlocked the door and pushed it open.

"It smells like chocolate in here."

I flushed, being that the reason for all the baking was standing in my entryway. "Yeah, I made brownies…and some cookies." They were covered and still sitting on the breakfast bar. "Um…help yourself," I offered, awkwardly.

He walked over and uncovered the brownie container while I sat on a bar stool and tried to be normal. He brought the square up to his mouth and said, "you know, I'm glad I ran into you. After you left on Thursday I realiz – holy _shit…_," he made a low rumbling moan that made me cross my legs. "You made these?" He took another bite and then licked a spot of chocolate off his bottom lip a little too slowly.

It was like watching food porn, not that I'd ever seen that, of course. "What? Yeah…yes, I did."

"I think you've just become my new favorite person. Can I have another one?"

I nodded. "Sure." Between him and Emmett, they'd taken all but two. I waited while he polished off the second one, taking the time to put his thumb between his lips to suck the chocolate off when he was finished. I meant to think of something to say, but it was impossible.

"Anyway," he said, saving me from having to interrupt my internal monologue with actual speech. "After you left on Thursday, I realized I didn't get your number or anything. So this was sort of…serendipitous."

"I was thinking that too," I mumbled before I could stop myself.

We were silent after that for long enough that it got awkward on my side; Anthony just played with the tinfoil from the brownies.

"So, if I hadn't seen you running around outside tonight, what would you be doing?" He covered the pan and then came around to my side of the island.

"I wasn't running…," I defended my scaredy cat tendencies automatically. As for his question, I knew exactly what I would have ended up doing; I just didn't want to tell him. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of anything more fun sounding so I went with the truth. "Um…I didn't really have plans. I was just going to unpack my books…,"

For his part, he didn't laugh at me; I liked him a little more for that. He bit his bottom lip the way I sometimes did to my own. Finally he said, "Need any help?"

...

"Wow," he said later, sitting in the middle what looked like a devastating literary explosion. The boxes were all opened and most were upended; none had made it to the shelves yet.

"What?" I hadn't even brought all that I owned. There was still a shelf full in my old room at Charlie's.

He picked a particularly worn out copy of some pre-Victorian thing and opened the front cover. "Have you ever thought about…getting rid of any of these?"

I snatched the book he was holding and hugged it to my chest. "Are you crazy?"

He looked amused and raised both hands defensively. "I give, but don't come crying to me when you need a place to stay because there's no more room for you here." He picked up another book and browsed it slowly, missing the little smile on my face. He made me feel like such a…_girl_. "Which one's your favorite?"

I felt a little dazed. "Hmm?"

"Do you have a favorite book? Or…five favorite books, probably," he grinned.

He wasn't far off in his assessment. "Not five, exactly…it just depends on the genre…or era… Actually, it's easier for me to pick favorite authors than books." There were so many books I liked by the same author, it was too hard to narrow it down.

"Ok, top three – books, not authors."

I mmm'd for a minute, my memory working. "Well…Pride and Prejudice, Romeo and Juliet…maybe, and Aesop's Fables, definitely."

"Why that one?"

I looked at my piles of classics while I answered, surprised at myself for being reluctant but not unwilling. "My mom got it for me when I was a kid." I curved a paperback forward and backward between my hands, concentrating on the yellowed pages. "She passed away about a year and a half ago." I swallowed against the narrowing in my throat.

"I lost my parents too…," he replied, slowly. "You just – I don't know – have to keep going, ya know?" When I didn't respond, he picked up a book and tossed it in my lap. "So…tell me about that one."

...

After a while, the books made their way to the shelves and I started wishing I had even more so I could prolong our – what had he called it? – _serendipitous_ encounter. Although, he was right, I didn't know where I would put them. There were always countertops and maybe some space on the bathroom vanity.

And though my off balance feeling never really went away, I started to notice that I kind of liked it. Anthony was funny and really smart and interesting and interested in me. He asked me things that made me blush more than I'd ever thought possible, but I answered him anyway. I found myself telling him all sorts of things that I would normally never say to someone I'd only known for a couple of days. His conversation was probing, but he always pulled back just enough, like he was able to sense when we were moving into too uncomfortable territory.

Everything about him was just…exactly right.

"Alright," he said, sliding the last book into the small available space left on the bottom shelf. "Is this everything?"

I told him it was without really thinking about it.

"Are you sure?" He gave me this look that was equal parts teasing and wondering.

I didn't really understand it. "Yeah, that's all of them." My boxes were empty, no other books were lying around in my closet and I'd grabbed the few that I had strewn around the apartment.

_Oh_, my nightstand. I suddenly remembered my bedside table drawer and what I kept in there. I looked back up at Anthony and saw that he'd rearranged his expression to look merely curious and I had a small moment of panic. He hadn't seen anything, had he?

He'd carried the boxes out from my bedroom for me, but I was always there with him, I thought anyway. I'd used the bathroom once, but that wouldn't have given him time to run in there. Besides, how would he even know where to look?

"Ok then, um…well, I should get going." He didn't get up, but sat straighter, stretching his back.

I glanced at the time and saw that it was almost midnight; he'd been here for four hours. Why did that still seem like not enough time? "Uh, yeah, alright." I shook my head against the haze of my earlier thoughts. His comment had been completely innocuous; it had to have been.

We stood up and I walked him the few feet to my front door. "I had a good time tonight, Bella." His voice was low and it reminded me of the vibration I felt across my skin when I watch him walk up the stairs.

Plus, the way he said my name made it sound like foreplay. "Me too…I'm glad we ran into each other."

He stepped forward a little until he was in my space and I could smell that clean guy scent again. If I looked up just a little I could see the hollow at his throat just above his shirt collar; I tried to remember that I was supposed to be looking him in the eye. "I'll see you again soon, ok?" He sounded very much like he was asking permission.

I looked up at him, thinking it was more than ok. "Definitely."

I felt myself leaning forward and then, just like that, he backed away and left with only a quick good night, leaving me off balance once again.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for all the reading and stuff, kinda makes my day. Let's see, one of you reviewers dubbed "Anthony" Pretendward and that's what I've started referring to him by in my head; love it, made me laugh.

Also, I post teasers on Twilighted on Tuesdays, so check those out if you'd like.

And last, thanks to kfoster2519 and jedigirlsc for the banner for this story. It's on my homepage and on Twilighted.


	5. Four: Wrench

Four: Wrench

Bella made fuck-awesome brownies. So that much was true, the rest of the night was a lie, mostly.

Incidentally, something I've learned over the years: most people don't know how to tell a lie correctly, let alone a string of them for a period of time the way I had to every day. Their lies were spur of the moment or poorly constructed, the liar was nervous or fumbling.

It isn't difficult to suss out a fake story. A person's eyes shift and their pupils dilate; they sweat or fidget; their breath and heart beat accelerate; they ask to have the question repeated, allowing them more time to think; they become defensive or agitated; they add superfluous detail, padding a story to make it sound more truthful. If you can read it, it makes a person an open book.

Those kinds of lies were to save one's own ass and took little foresight. Those were not the kind of lies I told.

The key was this: to tell a convincing lie, first you have to believe it yourself. That was why my employer went to such great detail. I had my normal life and I had this life as Anthony Masen; right now, that's who I was.

My apartment was a small one bedroom, the kind a student might have if they had access to money – which I did. It was furnished practically and was a little cluttered. As a graduate student, I found myself often too tired to find places for everything. But it wasn't dirty; I had to draw the line somewhere. My laptop sat open on a desk in my bedroom and the pants I slept in hung over a chair.

I had half empty bottles of soap and shampoo, a nearly full hamper, and a cup next to my toothbrush to rinse with.

My schoolbooks were used, highlighted, and a little worse for wear. I knew the professors, my class schedule, what my focus was, and how long I had before I graduated.

And I knew my history, where I was raised, why I moved to California, and how many women I'd dated. Two serious relationships – a high school sweetheart who couldn't handle long distance after graduation and one in college; we grew apart. They were both brunette.

A good lie is one that becomes a part of you and I was a damn good liar.

I made it a point to compartmentalize one job from the next, but it was difficult not to do some comparison. Especially in this case. Because all those other women were liars; what they didn't know was that I knew they were lying. They changed their interests, their age, their education and life experiences, all to make themselves look better to me. And I didn't care about any of it. They could have saved the creative energy and just told me the truth; I would have pursued them anyway.

Bella wasn't like this even in the slightest way. Every movement, glance, answer, and expression was organic. She was completely herself in a way that told me she'd never tell a convincing lie, even to save her life.

And she believed in people. Did she come from some world where people didn't screw each other over? Regardless, I could use it. She trusted me already. She let me into her home, let me see her books and eat her food; she answered my questions no matter how personal. I wondered if she had any boundaries at all. Though it wouldn't help me in the least, I found myself wishing that she did.

...

I had it on good authority that Bella Swan had never skipped class a day in her life barring severe illness. Well, that was about to change.

My car idled in the D lot Tuesday morning near the entrance. I would have shown up on Monday, but she didn't always park in the same place on that day and roaming from lot to lot was crossing into disturbing territory. I had principles for Christ's sake.

Bella's iPod was in my backpack behind my seat; my own was hooked up and playing something I couldn't quite hear. Conveniently, it turned out Bella and I had similar tastes in music. Some manufactured, some real.

Her little blue Audi pulled in ten minutes before her class was set to begin; she was cutting it awfully close. I watched her slip into a space nearby and jump out, slamming the door shut on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. It yanked her back roughly when she tried to walk away. I was too far to hear, but I knew she'd cursed. She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder while simultaneously opening the door and freeing her arm.

She looked different today, a little sloppy. And she was wearing a ponytail pulled through a baseball cap I'd never seen before. Instead of her usual brown sweater, she wore a baggy grey sweatshirt with the Forks, Washington police department logo on the front. It was large enough that it could have been her father's. It hung down almost to her knees and covered all her best physical features. Her face was hard as she set out across the pavement – definitely a bad day.

Before I could second guess myself, I pulled into the lane separating the parking lot from the campus buildings. I couldn't have timed it more perfectly. I came to a stop right beside her, blocking her path. She put an arm up in an angry "what the hell?" gesture and I rolled down my window. Bella looked like she wanted to kick my ass.

"Hey." I smirked at her.

She froze, her mouth half open while she stared in obvious surprise. "Uh…Anthony? I mean, hey. I didn't know you'd be…what's up?"

I chuckled at her ramble. "You're playing hooky today. Get in."

She planted her feet like she was going to say no. "That's not such a good -,"

I smiled at her the way I did when I really wanted to get my way. "It's a _great_ idea, Bella."

"Um…," She looked around as if checking for a truancy officer. When she was sure there was no one, she went around to the other side and got in. Her expression did a one eighty when I glanced over, instead of looking guilty, now there was a small mischievous grin playing at her lips. "I've never done this before."

It was too easy. I stared straight ahead, not bothering to hide my smile. "Well, I'm glad I could be your first." I didn't look over to see the blush I knew would be there, choosing to let her have a moment.

When I thought her embarrassment over my lewdness had faded, I glanced at her. A faint pink still colored the apples of her cheeks and she was looking at her lap. I took one hand off the wheel and tugged on her sleeve, trying to keep things on the untroubled side. "So…going incognito today?" All she needed was a pair of sunglasses.

"Just…having a day." She took off the hat and sat it on her bag at her feet.

I kept my eyes on her until she noticed.

"Do you, you know, look at the road when you drive?" She was tipping the balance in favor of sarcasm.

"Maybe you're nice to look at."

She huffed.

I drove south for a minute and then made a right turn at random. "What's going on today?"

"Nothing." She ran a hand over her hair like she'd forgotten it was pulled back.

I grabbed the pair of sunglasses hanging from my shirt collar and put them on. "You should take your hair down."

"It looks -,"

I sighed. "It's just me, Bella." I watched from the corner of my eye as she first hesitated, then reached up and loosened the elastic wrapped around her hair. She let it fall and then ran her fingers through it, shaking it out. I could smell that scent I couldn't ever identify; today it was sweet, like strawberries.

"Nothing's really wrong," she relaxed against the seat. "I didn't sleep well last night and I forgot to set my alarm so I got up really late…just little things, you know? I stubbed my toe and broke my mug and spilled coffee all over my sweater…," she pulled on her sweatshirt. "I know it's kind of stupid."

"It isn't." I made another right, essentially making the beginnings of a circle around the campus. "I have better timing than I thought."

She hmm'd, but stayed quiet, using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. It was going to be unseasonably hot today, the marine layer had already burned off and I was fighting the temptation to turn on the air conditioner. I rolled my window down instead.

I drove north a few blocks off from the coast with no destination in mind; it was strange that I hadn't thought of one. I always thought of everything.

After a minute, Bella fidgeted in her seat. When I looked over, I saw that she was trying to pull off her sweatshirt without taking her seatbelt off. Safety conscious, she was. It took much longer than necessary that way, but was worth it. When she pulled it up over her head, the tank top she was wearing underneath lifted up to expose a couple inches of pale and perfect skin. I wanted to run my fingers over her stomach to see if it was as soft and smooth as it looked.

"You can throw that in the back." And then I remembered, "I have an extra pair of sunglasses in the glove compartment if you want them." I nodded when she looked at me for permission, though I'd just given it to her.

"So…," she asked, pulling out the sunglasses and slipping them on; they looked just like mine. "Am I allowed to ask where we're going?"

I tried to think quickly. I was rarely in the same place for any length of time and while I knew the area, I was drawing a blank. "Mexico?" It was only a half serious suggestion and the first place I could name. Still, I'd take her if she wanted to go.

She made a small sound like a laugh. "I don't usually take my passport to class with me."

"Ok then…pick a direction."

She raised her eyes toward the sky in thought, her mood brightening. "North?"

I smiled. "North it is."

...

She laughed at me. "You're not doing it right, look."

I glanced over. Bella put her lips together, trying not to smile, and then parted them with a loud pop.

"Like that, sort of…pull your lips in or something…," she giggled at her strange explanation.

I tried to mimic her, but failed again, my mouth opening inaudibly. "It's not possible, you're just weird."

Bella smiled, "don't be mad. I'm sure you can do something too," she teased.

"My thumbs are double jointed, does that count?" I demonstrated, rotating my right thumb at an unnatural angle.

"That's kind of gross."

I saw from the corner of my eye that she flushed crimson immediately. I chuckled, hoping to make her feel better. "Yeah, it kind of is." I did it again right in her face and she laughed, swatting my hand away.

We'd been driving for a couple of hours and somewhere along the stretch of road Bella had loosened up. I kept things light and soon enough we were joking around and sharing stories. Well, she shared and I lied. But I found it went smoother than I expected because I actually enjoyed being Anthony. He was just really…_good_. It was almost like the life I might have had.

"Hey, are you hungry?" I asked.

She said that she was so I pulled off the highway and began the search for parking. Bella looked out her window, aware that this would be a two person effort. "I think that's…oh wait, fire hydrant space, never mind."

Several minutes later we were both still searching.

"Oh, there!" She pointed to her right, excited.

I had to slam on my brakes and turn the wheel hard, but I made it. After I turned off the ignition, I searched for quarters for the meter. There were none in the cup holders and I knew I had none in my wallet. I reached past Bella and flipped open the glove compartment, but the only thing in it was the car's manual, some napkins, and my phone charger. "Fuck," I muttered. This wasn't like me; I was always prepared to a fault. "Sorry." I apologized for the cursing.

She shrugged. "I don't mind."

I was fairly certain I had some cash in my wallet that I'd be able to change. But before I could do more than think about it, Bella reached to the bag at her feet and unzipped it.

"I have a ton of quarters. I keep getting coffee at that place by campus, you know? They charge me one fifty and I always give them two dollars, so I have all this change…," she dug through her bag for her wallet while she spoke. Her hair fell around her face as she leaned over and it muffled her voice. She reminded me of a little girl. "Here," she sat up, a huge handful of quarters in one palm.

"We probably won't need quite that many," I grinned.

"Oh, how long would this last us?"

I thought about it. "About a day and a half." I took a few quarters from her pile and we got out of the car.

While I fed the meter, Bella stretched her back and looked around. "I've seen the pier in movies, but never up close."

"Well let's go then…and bring some quarters."

...

She wanted to play Skee-Ball; she didn't actually ask, but I noticed her eyeing the game as we passed by. She won three to one before I forfeited and reminded her of lunch. We walked around the pier until we came across a little pizza-by-the-slice place.

"One of these days, I'm going to buy you an actual meal."

Bella had her wallet in her hand. "You're not buying this, I am. Want to sit there?" She motioned to a table a few feet away.

I wasn't comfortable with it, but it would be worse if I kept paying for everything, I could tell. So, rather than argue about it, I let her go up to the counter and order. It was when she was on her way back that I heard it.

"Edward? Is that you?"

The voice was female and several yards behind me. My mind raced to come up with a name, a face, anything. No one called me by that name. My employer stopped using it so long ago I couldn't remember. Normally, hearing it would barely register with me, but I recognized the voice. It was from another life; it was from before I became nameless.

"Um," Bella sat our food down on the table.

_Shit_.

"I think that girl's calling you," she sat down and seemed curious, but not overly so. "Is she calling you Edward?"

I hadn't noticed at first that this girl was still trying to get my attention. When I listened, I heard her voice coming closer.

"Edward? It's me!" She was approaching from my left, just barely visible on my periphery.

I stood up too fast. "She must be mistaken. I'll be right back – restroom." I strode away before Bella could say anything.

There was a not quite clean bathroom around the back of the pizza place so I went there and splashed some water on my face. When I was finished, I braced my hands on the sides of the sink and stared at my distorted reflection in the mirror. "_Get it fucking together_." A drop of water slid down my jaw and off my chin; I didn't feel any different.

When I got back outside, I waited out of sight. From my spot, I could see Bella talking to the woman, who was standing next to where I'd been sitting. I couldn't see Bella's face, but the woman was smiling in a friendly way. Bella glanced around like she was looking for me; she shrugged as if to say _"I don't know what's taking him so long." _

After another few seconds, the woman said goodbye and left.

Ok, damage control. I'd done this before; in my line of work it was inevitable. I walked back and casually sidled up next to her, sitting on the same bench seat. I hoped my proximity would distract her from asking any questions.

"Hey," she slid my food over to me. "You alright?"

I mm-hmm'd, taking a large bite of pizza. I ate my entire slice without coming up for air; Bella was barely half done when I finally looked at her again.

"So…," she pulled up a piece of pepperoni and ate it, chewing a little too carefully for such a small bit of food. "That woman seemed pretty positive she knew you."

I pretended to consider it. "I don't think so; I mean she called me Ed – the wrong name."

"She described you pretty perfectly, said you guys went to school together." She wiped her hands on a napkin and then folded it in half twice, slowly. "She uh, she said your name was Edward Cullen."

* * *

Author's Note: I know, I'm sort of evil.

So, despite that, I was nominated for a Silent Tear Award for Best Author! I'll put the link up in my profile, there are some great authors over there. Check 'em out and vote for your favorites!

Also, I have a recommendation:

No Choice by  
Summary: New Moon AU. During Bella's run in with Laurent, what if the wolves had shown up just a few minutes later? Those minutes change Bella's life forever, and she must learn to deal with the consequences. Nominated for two Twific Indie Awards.

Such great writing, she really delves deep into the characters. I'm really excited to see where this goes.


	6. Five: A Truth and a Lie

Five: A Truth and a Lie

So…this was weird. But not because the girl seemed crazy - the opposite, actually. That's what really threw me. This girl, Jessica, acted perfectly normal, a bit put out that Anthony just got up and walked away, but normal regardless. Her clothes looked nice, her perfume smelled – while a little on the strong side – like apples, and there was nothing that screamed "get away, fast," at me.

Jessica watched Anthony's retreating form with a little frown, but then a smile took its place. She said she was positive he was a guy she'd gone to high school with named Edward Cullen. She said a lot of things - that she remembered because she'd had a big crush on him all of senior year, that he'd graduated and then dropped off the map and that she'd heard through the grapevine that something bad had happened to him.

"Hair that sort of has a mind of its own? Crooked smile? Green eyes?"

I nodded, though she could have named those things by seeing him just now. "Wait…no, did you say green eyes? Anthony has…brown eyes." I couldn't think of a better name for them. Right then, I remembered the almost accident and how when I opened my eyes for the first time, I saw right away that he wore contacts. I guess I was beginning to think that the amber color was natural; I didn't know any men that wore colored lenses.

"Oh…well, no, Edward definitely had green eyes."

I didn't know why I asked, I didn't know this girl from Eve, but it was niggling at me. "Did Edward wear glasses? Or contacts?"

She shook her head. "No, he didn't wear glasses; I don't know about the contacts, though."

I hmm'd and tried to leave it alone.

Jessica gushed about this Edward person for another minute before saying an awkward goodbye. "I…well, I'd say tell him hello for me, but…I guess not," she shook her head the way I did when I thought, _hmm, weird_.

When Anthony came back, he was moody. He ate really fast and I tried to remember if that was just something he did, but I couldn't. And I couldn't stop thinking about that Jessica girl and then things started to snowball, things I had absolutely no evidence for whatsoever. It made me feel guilty. I didn't know Anthony well, but I knew him better than I knew Jessica. Finally, I just spit it out. "So…," well, maybe not right away. "That woman seemed pretty positive she knew you."

He stared at his empty plate for a second before answering. "I don't think so; I mean she called me Ed – the wrong name."

I caught the beginning of the name Edward on his lips. "She described you pretty perfectly," albeit briefly, I added to myself, "said you guys went to school together." I played with my napkin to give my hands something to do. "She uh, she said your name was Edward Cullen." I felt my face heat up as soon as I finished. Saying it out loud made me feel ridiculous. That girl could have been anyone, maybe it was just a failed attempt at hitting on him.

I'd known a girl in college that did that once. She ran into a guy she liked and said something like, "Brad, oh wow, it's been so long!" And then, of course, the guy said that he was someone else and they'd struck up a conversation despite the mistake. They dated for about a year.

But, if she saw Anthony get up and leave, why talk to me? Did she think I was…his pimp or something? I shook my head, definitely entering strange territory.

When I came back to myself, I noticed Anthony had yet to say anything. I wanted to tell him never mind, but another part of me wanted to know what he was going to say.

"Did…did she say where she was from? Maybe we went to school together and she mistook me for – him." He was still staring at his plate.

"She didn't say which school, but she did say it was in Chicago."

He nodded to himself and mumbled, "Chicago, hmm." After a second, he shook his head. "No…no, I've never even visited Chicago. I don't know that gi-,"

I cut him off, waving my hand in his direction dismissively. "No, don't, you don't have to explain anything. That was just…weird. Let's just forget it, ok?" The whole thing made me feel strange and I really wanted to trust Anthony and just let things be normal and happy again.

The man really did have impeccable timing; I was having a really cruddy day until he showed up. First there was the almost car accident, then running into each other at my apartment, and then today. Yeah, almost peculiarly impeccable timing.

Before I could think anymore, I felt Anthony shift on the tiny bench we were sharing. He straddled the seat and leaned in hesitantly like he might kiss me, but instead he touched his forehead to my temple. It was a sweet gesture and for once, I didn't wonder why. His breath was cool on the side of my face and I knew he'd closed his eyes so I did too. I could feel his body around me though we were barely touching; the air crackled. He pulled back just as I was starting to lean closer.

We played more Skee-Ball and at first I thought he was letting me win, but I'd begun noticing little things he did when he got frustrated. He'd run his hands through his hair and almost pull on it and this little crease would form between his eyebrows; it was really funny considering we were only goofing around. I thought about throwing a game, but didn't think he'd appreciate it very much.

"Hey, did you play any sports in school?" I asked. We'd decided to get going, with traffic at this time of day, we'd be lucky to get home before it got dark.

"Baseball," he answered.

"Really? I took you for more of a football player." It had more intensity.

He cleared his throat twice; it sounded kind of fake and I wondered if I'd embarrassed him. "Um, no…well," he ran his far hand through his hair in that not good way. "Baseball, it's…there's more strategy to it than you'd think, which is what I like. You have to learn to read the players, that kind of thing. My uh…my dad coached my little league team when I was a kid."

It was the first time he'd mentioned anything about his parents from when they were alive. I could see just in his stance that more memories than he was willing to share were surfacing. Usually, when he walked, he stood almost ruler straight and looked ahead, but now his eyes were on the heavy wooden planks of the pier beneath us.

I reached for his hand before I could over-think the gesture. His palm was warm from our time in the sun and a little rough, but in a nice way.

He laced his fingers through mine and squeezed. In the hopes of not ruining the moment, I didn't say anything. He didn't either.

The drive home was quiet except for the low music coming from his iPod. We had a bunch of songs in common and it made me nostalgic for my lost music player. I'd thought about buying a new one, but couldn't justify the expense as necessary in my head.

When we pulled into the school lot, the sun had dipped below the horizon, a little too dark to still be called evening. I was a little disappointed that our day together was over.

Anthony pulled up right next to my car, one of three still in the parking lot. He fiddled with his door handle which was different; he never did anything idly like that. "Can I, do you mind if I follow you home? Not in the I-watch-you-sleep way, just in the -,"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Yeah, that's fine." Underneath my layer of independence, I was secretly excited that I was spending a little more time with him.

"I hate it when you say that – _fine_," he couldn't quite hide the little grin that formed despite what he said.

I teased back, half mocking, "Yes, Anthony, would you please follow me home in case I need a big man to rescue me?"

He sighed heavily, "fine."

I shook my head at him and smiled to myself, opening the car door and stepping out.

"Oh, wait…," he reached behind him for his backpack. It took him a minute to finagle the zipper, but when he did, I saw something I recognized.

"My iPod!" I leaned back into the car, excited to see my long lost friend. "Where did you find it?"

"On the floor behind your seat, it must have fallen or something." He held it up for me and I grabbed it, examining it the way one might a child that had taken a spill.

I smiled at him. "Thank you…you have no idea…,"

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "It…it wasn't really anything."

I wanted to kiss him, a lot. Instead I told him I'd see him soon and then I shut the door, needing the physical barrier.

The drive back to my apartment only took a few minutes, but I spent that time whipping my thoughts into a frenzy. I wanted to invite him up, but I knew rationally that it was a bad idea. I had this thing, when I really liked someone; it tended to manifest itself physically. It was new, really new. In fact, this was the first time I'd ever felt this way.

I pulled into my parking space and saw Anthony parking on the street in front of the building.

"Just say good night and goodbye," I said to myself. "Good night and goodbye." I walked over to the entrance where he was already waiting for me.

"Your gate's still broken."

"Yeah, I don't know, they haven't gotten around to fixing it yet." I pushed it open and he followed behind me while I mentally ridiculed myself. _What happened to good night and goodbye? …I can say it just as easily from in front of my door._

I went up the stairs slowly, hoping he'd start a conversation that would keep us going for another few hours. When I got to my door, I shuffled my things around so I could grab my keys and stall. "I had a really good time today," I said, lamely.

"Yeah, I did too…Bella, look – I…," he paused and ran a hand through his hair. Instead of finishing his thought, he stepped forward, very much into my space. He fingered the belt loops of my jeans and I knew what was going to happen. The tension strained to a low vibrato and I expected it to feel like the hum from the last time we were on the stairs, but Anthony looked almost boyish and it made me want to protect him from something.

He lowered his face so his forehead touched mine and I closed my eyes, remembering the pier. Everything about him seemed so pliable both times. Or maybe not that, maybe grateful, I couldn't tell. And then he shifted just a bit and his lips were on mine. He felt both sweet and full and searing, and very much like it would leave a mark when he pulled back. I rose up on my toes.

He smiled against me, effectively ending the best kiss of my life, chaste as it was. "Good night, Bella."

I said good night and goodbye like I swore I would, and then watched him walk down the stairs. At the bottom, he turned around and called up to me. "Hey, this is probably going to sound stupid, but…can I have your number? I don't know how many more times I can just happen upon you."

I wanted him to come back up so I could give it to him, but he didn't so I just said it and he promised he wouldn't forget.

When I got inside, I dropped everything on the floor and did this floating, skipping, jumping thing all the way back to my bedroom (grateful that I lived by myself). I fell back on the bed, feeling very much like the dreamy, starry eyed girl that I wasn't. But I couldn't help it because in the moment, I was completely swept under and I enjoyed the feeling.

The kiss was everything I'd been waiting for without ever realizing it. It was the perfect first date kiss, except I didn't think that's what this actually was. It was hard to tell. He didn't seem to want anything more from me physically; in fact, he looked rather bashful about the whole thing as it was. So, I didn't know, maybe he just…liked me. I turned over and smiled into my pillow, feeling the need to hide my girlishness.

I relived the whole day, especially the last part, over and over. Anthony was so…everything. And today was different; he was relaxed. He played around with me and laughed and didn't pull away when I reached for his hand. He reached back.

But, my pessimistic side intervened, it wasn't completely without turbulence. Jessica…

She was this sort of unknown something, an X factor. Or my mind was over-analyzing as it usually does when things go well. Jessica could have very well been off her meds, or any number of other more rational explanations. Simply because she said she knew him didn't mean she actually did. She didn't even get his eye color right. Although, there was the matter of the contacts.

I felt my mind spinning out in multiple directions and I couldn't really force it away no matter how hard I tried. I wasn't dressed for it, but I started wishing for sleep. I toed off my shoes and removed my jeans, scooting under the covers when I was done.

My phone was in the entryway, along with everything else, but I wanted it. Like having it nearby would make Anthony call, or maybe I could just call him…no, I didn't have his number. _I'm crossing over to the dark side_.

I rolled onto my stomach and pulled the covers up almost over my head. _Think about something else_, I ordered myself. I'd forgotten to text Charlie today. I wondered what my dad would have said if I'd told him I didn't eat dinner. And - I checked the time - that I was in bed at nine o'clock.

_What was Anthony doing right now?_

When that thought crossed my mind, I gave it up.

What was he doing and what was his number and why didn't I have it? Silly questions of no real significance. And then, a few heavier ones. Like, if he wasn't from Chicago, where _was_ he from? Did he have any family? Friends? Did he work? Did he have a favorite color or memory or place to get lunch? And why did it matter that I didn't know yet?

I counted back; it hadn't even been a week since the near miss in the parking lot. We had lots of time.

But, in that same amount of time, he learned my medical history, my address and number, he knew about my favorite books and that I baked, what I was studying, and that my mom had passed away.

I groaned into my pillow. This was what I did. I took a perfectly good thing and tried to pull it apart until it wasn't good anymore. My aptitude for self-sabotage was quite high, I was realizing.

Well, no more of that, I decided. Anthony was a genuinely nice guy and he seemed to like me; I was going to let everything else go.

I fell asleep still feeling his kiss on my lips.

* * *

Author's Note: Hi, my lovely readers. So, I just wanted to say a quick thank you to Twi-Fic Promotions for reviewing and recommending my story; you guys made my day.

Nothing else today, just thank you's all around.


	7. Six: New Angles

Six: New Angles

"_Put a little more space between your hands." He showed me how to do it with the old wooden bat he called Thelma. I had no idea what that meant, but whenever he said it in front of my mom they'd look at each other in this weird way and laugh. Anyway, he moved into the proper stance and twisted his hands on the bat, getting accustomed to the feel._

_I tried to copy him, spreading my feet just so, gripping the bat; behind me, I heard my mom tap on the window inside the kitchen. It was her version of the dinner bell._

_My dad straightened up right away; it was alfredo night, his favorite. "Alright kiddo, that's good. Try not to hold the bat that tight; you're not trying to kill it." _

_He took one last practice swing, clucking once with his tongue to imitate the noise of the ball hitting the bat. He looked off into the distance for a second and then smiled crookedly. "And the crowd goes wild!" He made a cheering sound by cupping his hands around his mouth and exhaling loudly._

_I rolled my eyes._

"_Ok, Babe Ruth," my mom appeared at the back door. "Time to eat." She was trying to be stern, but her grin gave her away._

And then, somewhere, there was ringing.

I reached out blindly for the phone on my nightstand, hitting "answer" without looking at the caller ID. I mumbled, "hello?" from underneath the covers.

"Anthony, did I catch you sleeping?"

"Huh?" I was still in the space between wakefulness and sleep. I thought whoever this bastard was that woke me up must have the wrong number.

"Anthony," the voice was instantly reproving and I finally recognized it as my employer.

"I'm sorry." I sat up to clear my head. "I was - yes, I was asleep."

"Late night?" I could hear his amusement and approval at what he believed to be my swift progress.

Unfortunately, that was not the case. I hadn't seen Bella since Tuesday when I kidnapped her from school. I brought two fingers up to rub back and forth across my bottom lip. "Yeah, you know," I lied, dropping my hand.

"Very good." He was pleased.

I felt eagerness in my veins like caffeine now that I knew he was interested. "I've got some insurance information and a couple other things…sorry, I know that's not really that useful for us right now -,"

"Nonsense, you're doing fine. It's only been a week. Push, but you don't want to drive the girl away. Alright, I'll check back. Goodbye, Anthony."

"Goodb-," he hung up before I could finish.

My employer liked to keep tabs on me. It was important; he needed to know where all his chess pieces were at any given time. For some reason I thought of James and how he was most definitely a pawn.

Anyway, I had a strong feeling that even without the phone calls; he'd still know exactly what I was doing every day. And the knowledge assuredly did not go both ways. In fact, if I did have something urgent to tell him, I had no number to call. For his legitimate business, he had a cell phone. And for his other work, he had disposable phones he could use once and throw away. It was inconvenient, but like everything else, it was important. Cutting the ties between us like that made it safer for him and for me in case either of us was ever caught. There would be nothing there; we'd be strangers.

I thought about his advice not to push Bella too hard. Some women liked to be pushed; they wanted to be dominated. Not so much swept off their feet as completely knocked off them, I snickered. I was good at that. I liked to come in and just take them.

Being with Bella was a little different. There was a part there that was turned on by the idea of me taking the lead. I saw it when she got into my car the other day. There was mischief and some fire behind her eyes. But she wasn't willing to let go just yet. Which was fine by me, the whole thing was beginning to feel like foreplay in my head and she was quite good at that, even if she didn't realize it.

That, really, was what made it so good. Every innocent little thing was a lot more than she knew. And it helped that Bella liked to be touched, a lot. And I liked touching her.

I pushed the covers off and stretched, then got up before I could get comfortable again. In the bathroom, I flipped the shower on cold. Getting off to thoughts of my target wasn't going to do me any favors.

Instead, I soaped up and washed my hair, thinking about how far I'd gotten and what needed to be done today. It had been a couple of days since I'd last seen Bella and today would be the first time that I saw her on purpose, at least from her perspective. I was going to take her to lunch and then spend as much time with her as she'd allow. It'd help if she let me into her apartment again as well. And one of these days, I wanted her to let me into her nightstand drawer…

I turned the shower off and grabbed a towel to wrap around my waist when I got out. Thinking about Bella's erotica collection wasn't helping my – situation. Neither was thinking about the way she tasted, or the way she pressed into me when I kissed her, or how -

_Oh, fuck it_…

...

Bella answered her phone on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Hey."

"Oh, hey," her flush was evident even in her tone of voice. Though she kept things close to the vest, it always gave her away.

"I thought we should see each other on purpose for once, are you free?" I tried not to sound overly zealous.

"Oh, um, yeah I just got out of class. Do – do you want to get lunch or something?"

I could hear other voices and what sounded like an engine starting nearby. Just as I was opening my mouth to tell her that lunch was exactly what I had in mind, I heard her mutter "_shit_" under her breath.

I chuckled. "Are you alright?"

She sighed and adjusted something. "Yeah, I just dropped my keys and…I'm not sure where…," she was sounding more and more distracted as she looked around for them. She made another sound, a little uncomfortable huff. "Oh, there you are…," she seemed to have forgotten I was there.

"Bella?"

"Sorry, sorry! I," she huffed again. "My keys managed to land underneath this car next to me…I don't know how…Got 'em!" She sounded triumphant. She was quiet again for a moment before she said, "Oh, sorry, my keys fell under your car. I didn't mean to touch it or anyth -," her voice was muffled, but the tone was defensive.

"Hey, is someone there with you? Are you ok?" I grabbed my own keys and headed out. I pressed my phone more tightly to my ear, trying to figure out what was going on.

She didn't hear me or she wasn't listening, but I could hear her. "I couldn't just leave them there…I don't see any scratch, my bag didn't even touch your car."

I took off toward the University, ready to go get her on campus; I knew she was in the D Lot today. I stepped on the gas, my temper heating the more I listened to Bella defend herself. My hands hurt so I loosened my grip on the steering wheel.

My mind was starting to wander to the dumb fuck harassing Bella. I thought about breaking his face; it had been a long time since I'd done anything like that. I was in the middle of the perfect uppercut when Bella spoke again.

"Hey, there's nothing there so just back the hell off." A second later, I heard her car door shut and the engine turn over.

_Wow._

_That's my girl._

"Oh my God, Anthony! I forgot all about you, are you still there? I'm really sorry, I had to – take care of something. I'm sorry, I should have…Anthony…I'm probably talking to myself now, great…," she muttered.

I huffed a small laugh. "Yes, I'm still here. Who was that? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fi – I'm…alright."

"Do I need to kick someone's ass? I'm on my way over there, you know."

"What? No, it's fine. Just had to deal with someone. It's fine." She paused. "Are you really on your way over here?"

I was about to drive right past the lot. "Look to your left," I waved as I passed by. "Wanna just follow me? I promise I won't stop at a pizza place."

She pulled out and drove behind me.

I asked her what happened, but she gave few details, only describing dumb fuck as "some giant guy really in love with his car." She seemed to be worried that I'd go back and try to find him, which wouldn't be out of the question though it didn't sound like I was needed. She appeared to have it all wrapped up. It was kind of a turn on.

I led Bella to small deli place near the beach. It had outdoor seating and sandwiches with names like Dr. Strangelove. We parked on the street; this time I had quarters for the meter. I pushed enough in to last an hour or so, I wasn't sure. My mind was preoccupied.

"Hey," she smiled when I met her halfway between her car and mine. She looked both happy and unsure; it wasn't difficult to figure out why.

To ease her mind, I grabbed her belt loops and tugged enough for her to get the idea. She looked at my chest, a light pink rising in her cheeks, and then moved her eyes up, slowly. I put my arms around her, my hands sliding around her waist and pulling until she was flush against me. Today she smelled like strawberries or something. I wanted to bury my face in her neck to get a better idea, so I did.

Bella exhaled. "Hi," she said again. She brushed her thumb once over the skin at the back of my neck.

I lingered another second before stepping back. I felt the urge to check her over, as if dumb fuck had put his hands on her. Instead I gestured behind me toward the sandwich place. "Is this ok?"

She mm-hmm'd so I led her inside, my hand at her back. It was definitely strawberries, I grinned to myself when she wasn't looking.

"What?" She asked when we found a table.

Apparently, I was still smiling. "Nothing, here," I handed her a menu.

She looked at me again like she was trying to figure something out. Bella was an oddly perceptive woman for her age and experience. There weren't many years between us, but I knew my own life had been drastically different from hers. From the knowledge I had beforehand, I expected much more naïveté than I was getting. I found it attractive; for the same reason some people liked to have sex in public places. "I was thinking that I wanted to kiss you again."

Her eyes darted to a table of girls sitting near us. "Anthony," her tone was embarrassed, but more than a little in agreement. She might have been observant, but she was also easily distracted.

"What?" Teasing her this way was too easy. And I felt more in control this time around.

When we were together last, I'd been off my game. I had no plan in place and when that woman showed up, everything turned on its head. I ended up telling Bella more truth than I typically told anyone. But she was so receptive, the type that people wanted to talk to. And she reacted to the unspoken parts just as strongly as the spoken ones. That's why I kissed her at the end of the night, I could admit that much. I wanted to laugh now that I'd ever thought of her as mousy. Having to append things as I went was normal though and in this case, it was a pleasant change.

We ate relatively quietly, but it wasn't the comfortable silence I'd expected. Bella looked like she had something to say and her anxiety was making me anxious as well. Perhaps she was even more observant than I thought? No, my bases were covered. And besides, what were the chances that she would just _guess_ the truth?

I decided to ask her if anything was wrong; catching her off guard with such a direct question usually elicited an uncensored response.

"I'm fine," she answered. I waited because I knew there would be more. "Well, I uh – I told one of my friends that I met you and – you know, I should have known – and he told his girlfriend. Anyway, my friends want to meet you and it's completely ok to say no, I told them it probably wasn't a good idea; they can be kind of overwhelming all at once… So yeah, you wanted to know, so there it is; now we can forget it, ok?" She stopped to take a breath.

I reached forward and brushed my fingers back and forth over the top of her hand; she'd been picking at her nails while she spoke. "Why wouldn't that be a good idea?"

"Well," she frowned. "I love them all, they came into my life during a time when…anyway, I don't want to give you the wrong impression; they're pretty amazing. But all together, with alcohol probably…they can be a little abrasive. No, that's not the right word…," she slumped a little in her chair. "I just don't want to send you running, I guess. I mean, I don't even know what we are -," she stopped herself suddenly, as if just realizing the direction she was going.

She started to backpedal, but I stopped her. "Are you asking what my intentions are?" I grinned crookedly.

"I…no, I mean, it's no big deal…," she was a horrible liar.

Bella didn't do casual, of that much I was positive. I stilled my fingers over hers and stayed quiet until she got curious and looked up at me.

"I like you, Bella. As for what that's going to become, well I sure as hell want find out…if you'll let me," I added.

Her expression brightened and I saw a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Yeah, I'd like that."

...

As a rule, I avoided meeting friends and family at all costs. It became complicated with that many people thrown into the mix. I wanted the woman to feel like it was just us on our own private island regardless of the relationship I was trying to develop with them.

But I wanted this, I wanted to see her with her friends and I wanted to see her the way they did. So for Bella, I'd do it.

* * *

Author's Note: So, I'm a day early...or a week late if you want to look at it that way. Anyway, thank you so much for being patient; I really needed the extra time to sort through some real life stuff. Extra thanks to the people that sent me really supportive reviews/messages; they were very nice.

Also, quick shout out to those of you that have recommended me; I don't know who all of you are, but I do know that I opened my email the other morning and saw almost five hundred new alerts/favorites/reviews, etc. So I know someone is talking :) SydneyAlice, I know you're one of them; I heart you and thank you.

Apparently, FF is being wonky and has deleted my dividers within at least one chapter...so, I'm going to go back and replace them with something else, sorry if it made things confusing.

Finally, I will (hopefully) be back to my regular posting schedule now that things are starting to calm down over here.


	8. Seven: Getting Approved

Seven: Getting Approved

I was wandering the aisles of Home Depot with Emmett when he decided it was a good time to play messenger.

I'd offered to come with him because he and Rosalie had taken me to lunch and Rosalie didn't want to go to the store after. Emmett gave me the hopeful eyes and I caved. Home Depot was like his Disneyland, and those experiences were best shared. And, like Disneyland, you can't go to the park just to get on one ride; you had to see the whole thing.

"What are we looking for?" I asked, looking at an array of cabinet knobs. I was thinking of trying to spruce my place up a little bit, new dresser knobs might look nice. Rosalie had suggested something bigger, like a wall to wall entertainment center.

"Rose wants these energy efficient light bulbs or…low wattage or something. Get those ones," he pointed to a knob labeled "antique bronze." They were dark brown with a delicate inlay of vines across the front.

"Yeah?" I pulled out the drawer to grab a few. The "bronze" part of the label reminded me of Anthony and I started to get all fluttery and then I felt silly.

"Yeah, they're all girly and shit."

When we finished with that, Emmett led me and a big rolling pallet over to the gardening section so I could help him pick something out for Rosalie. I wouldn't have pegged her for the green thumb type, but Emmett said she did it to decompress.

I didn't know what, but something had happened to her just after high school that was pretty bad. She went to group therapy for it still; Emmett said she used to lie and say she was getting a manicure, but that even he knew she couldn't be getting them that often. Anyway, he said she'd taken a liking to growing things and could also play the guitar and the piano.

"What about an orchid?" I asked. There was a small display of the vibrant purple flowers.

Emmett was eyeing a lemon tree even though they didn't have a yard. I guess I could see why he'd like them; they smelled amazing. "Yeah, that'll work. I need more soil and a pot and stuff."

We both started walking around and I thought that maybe I could get a plant too, or some flowers. We turned a corner and found a few rows of tiny cacti. Automatically, I pushed on Emmett's arm. "Careful."

"Yes, mom." After a second he said, "You should get those ones for yourself."

I looked at their tag – pansies. "Very funny." Actually, they were pretty and I had a vision of getting a few to go by the window in my living room.

"So, Bella…,"

"Hmm?" I was picking out colors - deep purple, blue, and an icy lavender. I was also going to need pots, or window boxes, soil…

"When do we meet your new boyfriend?" He sounded as reluctant to say it as I was to hear it.

"Um – my new what?"

"I know," he defended. "But I might have mentioned it to Rose and now everyone might want to meet him."

I couldn't think of anything to say. They wanted to, all at the same time, meet my…whatever he was. I was still trying to be casual after that kiss, but I wasn't doing a very good job. Unless casual meant taking the phone into the bathroom with me. "Should I get window boxes or pots?"

"Bella -,"

"I think pots…,"

"Bella -,"

"Those ones are nice."

"Bella -,"

I groaned. It was too fast and Anthony and I were undefined and I knew they'd give him a hard time. It wouldn't matter if I called him a friend or something else. But I couldn't deny Emmett anything; I was pretty sure that's why they sent him. "Ok, but tell them he's not my boyfriend."

"But you want him to be, bad." He was smirking at me. "Trust, I grew up with sisters; I know these things."

He looked so satisfied with himself and I thought - _I just came with him to buy light bulbs. _"Well, I wouldn't exactly put it that way, but um…you know, I might…a little, I don't know."

"Ha, I knew it. You're allowed to like someone, Bella."

When I didn't say anything else, he helped me haul a too large bag of soil onto his pallet. "He can come to the Friday night dinner, keep it light. Sound good?"

"Yeah, I guess." I tried to quell my inner panic. "When you met everyone, were we nice to you?" Rosalie had met Emmett only a week or two after I met Alice. That little bit of seniority meant that I'd been invited to the new-boyfriend-preapproval dinner by Rosalie. But he'd been so easy going, he fit right in.

"Yeah, Alice sort of gave me the third degree, but you guys were fine."

"Will you be nice to Anthony?"

He just grinned. "We'll see."

…

I changed my clothes twice before I settled on jeans a light top that showed off my neck and collarbone. I pinned my hair up messily on accident, but it looked nice so I left it that way. After that, I put on flats and then boots and then flats again.

Before I could reconsider for a third time, Anthony buzzed from the gate, which had been fixed and rekeyed the day prior. The manager said it looked like the lock had been broken purposefully, hence the new keys. But no one had reported any break-ins; it didn't make sense to me why someone would only trespass as far as the courtyard. It sounded more like delinquent kids.

I met Anthony in front of the complex and we rode in a quiet that was only interrupted long enough for me to give him directions to the little restaurant I frequented with my friends. It was a tradition that Alice and Rosalie started years ago when their schedules kept them apart too much for their liking. Every Friday, we met on the open air patio and ate too much food and drank good wine. It had quickly become the highlight of my whole week when they started inviting me.

Anthony pulled into the parking lot and then looked over long enough to smile at me. At first, I thought I was more nervous than he was, but I figured out pretty fast that he was uneasy too. He barely spoke, not even to rib me about anything. I still called it that even though I was pretty sure it was actually flirting. And his hands were fidgety on the steering wheel. I got it though, meeting the friends could sometimes be worse than meeting the parents.

He came around to my side when we got out and slipped his hand up so his fingers rested around the back of my neck. I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he just said, "You look beautiful today." He left his hand where it was until we went inside.

We were the first ones there, so I took it as an opportunity and ordered wine.

"Nervous?" Anthony asked after the waitress filled his glass.

"I'm fine," I answered, knowing he'd know it was a lie. I was too chicken just to say yes, I was afraid he would decide I didn't merit the trouble after less than two weeks of whatever we were doing. He liked me, or he said he did, but there was this little part of me that said I wasn't worth it. That voice had been around for a long time.

"Hey, sorry we're late. Oh good, you got wine." Alice led Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie to the table while Anthony stood up, formally.

"Everyone, this is Anthony." I introduced him around and watched them speculate silently before sitting down. I thought I could hear my own heart beating through the tension.

"So," Emmett spoke up, always one for filling an awkward pause. "How did you two meet, anyway?"

"Uh," I started. _Please don't tell them, please don't tell them._

"You didn't say anything?" Anthony looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed. I stared at my wine glass, my face heating. "She was almost hit by a car -,"

"What?" Alice half stood before Jasper tugged her back down. "When? Were you hurt? Who hit you?" She asked as if she was going to get up and hunt him down herself. "What is it with you and car accidents?"

"Nine or ten days ago and no I wasn't hurt. I don't know who the driver was; he just took off." I glanced over at Anthony, daring him to mention my forced trip to the hospital that came afterward. "It was ok though. Anthony…pushed me out of the way."

Alice smiled softly. "That's…that's so romantic."

Jasper looked amused by her assessment. "Only you would think a near hit and run was romantic."

I wanted to change the subject, but I didn't want to downplay how grateful I was that he'd saved me from being squished under someone's tire.

Anthony put his arm along the back of my chair; I could see he was getting comfortable now. "It was just a big ruse so I could meet her," he said, lightening things up.

After ordering dinner and then spending several minutes fending off attacks on my balance issues, we slid naturally into an easy conversation. Rosalie even spoke up long enough to find out that Anthony played the piano, which even I hadn't known. She wasn't shy by any means, but reserved definitely, especially around new people. It had taken almost a month before she would engage me without Alice in the room. I considered her a friend now and I hoped she considered me one, though we couldn't be called close.

Alice and I were different; she was the first friend I made in California. She had no filter and was unabashedly honest; also there was a big part of her that was very much the romantic. I think we balanced each other out in a similar way that she and Jasper did. He was a sweet man, mellow and almost tentative, and very much in love. He'd had a hard time of it as a child, Alice had mentioned, but he and I weren't close enough for him to ever say anything about it.

The person I was closest to was Emmett. It sort of made me nervous at first, the ease with which we got along. I didn't want to give Rosalie a reason not to like me. Fortunately, that turned out not to be a problem. Their relationship was absolutely solid; they just got each other, simply put. I was more of the little sister which I liked very much.

Over the course of the next couple of hours, we went through several desserts and a lot of wine. Instead of my friends being intrusive, they all welcomed Anthony into the group. And that made _me_ feel more like part of the group.

"I've got to ask," Emmett started. I knew what was coming. "What are your intentions with our fair friend?" Emmett leaned forward on his elbows and Rosalie snorted. He wasn't intimidating if you knew him, but I was pretty sure he could be imposing if he wanted to be.

Anthony's arm was at the back of my chair again; I felt his thumb brushing back and forth across my arm. Alice caught it when I shifted closer to him. "Well, I like her. We're just getting to know each other, but…," for the last part he looked at me, "I'm in."

I smiled and felt fluttery, but didn't say anything. I could see Alice grinning from the corner of my eye.

Emmett hmm'd before talking again. "You're alright, I guess. But make no mistake Anthony, if you hurt her, we'll hurt you back." He relaxed his posture. "Rosie, want the rest of my cheesecake?"

I sort of wanted to push him or something, and another part of me wanted to hug him. I don't know, I'd had a lot of wine.

…

When the night was over, Alice almost had to be carried to Jasper's car. She always forgot what a lightweight she was. I, on the other hand, was feeling good. Despite the breeze that had kicked up along the coast, I was warm, my limbs pleasantly loose.

"You're drunk," Anthony said it as if it were some amusing discovery. He opened the car door for me and touched the top of my head the way police do to keep a suspect from hitting it when they got in.

"I resent the implication, sir." Alright, "sir" might have had a few extra S's. "I can hold my wine."

He snorted. "I'm not implying, I'm stating." He shut my door and went around to the other side. After he got in and started the engine, he continued. "You're definitely going to need some water. Are you still hungry? You didn't eat very much."

He was right, I'd been so nervous I lost my appetite early on in the evening. By the time I relaxed and realized everything was alright, I'd filled up on alcohol. I only picked at my food and the cookie/brownie thing Anthony tried to share with me. "What was the question?"

Anthony rolled his eyes, but he didn't seem annoyed. "Ok then."

He drove and I let my head rest on the seatback. I closed my eyes and thought about how well Anthony handled my friends tonight. He'd told me he was studying psychology; it fit him really well. Then I thought about his bed-head, and my bed, and how nice he would look in it. I giggled.

"What?"

"Nothing."

He parked after another couple of minutes in front of one of those cheap, all night diners that I always thought stayed open for just this reason. "Can I get fries? And a milkshake? I like chocolate." I asked, suddenly ravenous.

"Yes, and probably a big greasy burger, c'mon." He held me around the waist and kept me upright while we walked inside.

"With bacon," I added. "And cheese…pickles…extra tomatoes…,"

He chuckled at my list. "You don't mess around, do you?"

"I grew up around a lot of boys."

Once we were settled at a booth with my food between us, Anthony asked, "so…why all the drinking tonight?" He picked up one of my fries.

I stalled, chewing a bite of food. I washed it down with a gulp of water before I said anything. "Maybe I like wine."

"Mm hmm."

"Well, I do," I had a sip of my shake. "It has lots of undertones and flavors and…you know…stuff."

He ate a few more of my fries while I tried to swallow an entire cow whole. It was the most delicious cheap burger I'd ever had. I was becoming comfortably full and just forgetting about his question when he brought it up again.

"Were you nervous tonight?" He had some of my water. I liked how he just did it without asking, like we were a couple already.

"I don't know."

"Did you think they wouldn't like me?"

I didn't say anything so he kept probing.

"Something else then…," he thought about it. "Did you think it would scare me away?"

I shrugged which I knew gave me away, so I had to say something. "It's just really soon. I mean, I don't even know what you want from this…and…meeting my friends is like, a boyfriend thing," I mumbled the last part and then shoved a handful of fries in my mouth.

He looked at me for a very awkward minute. "Bella, what happened to you?"

I was still a little drunk and was aiming for flippant. "Oh, you know…mommy issues." When he just kept staring, I continued with an I-don't-care eye roll. "She started with a vague interest when I was a kid and then graduated to total abandonment when I wasn't quite interesting enough…whatever." I raised one shoulder and then let it fall. I looked down at my plate so he wouldn't see my eyes watering. "Oh," I started, changing the subject. "I need to text my dad, hold on a second."

I squinted with one eye while I typed; I only had to backspace once. It read – _bacon burger, fries, shake, maybe antacids later._

My dad texted back right away – _haha, BLT, made it myself_.

"Sorry about that, do you want the rest of my fries? I'm stuffed; this was really good."

Anthony stretched a hand out and brushed his fingers along my forearm. He seemed to be really concentrating on the movement. "Bella…I want _you_, ok? I can't fix that stuff with your mom, but…I can be something else." He cleared his throat at the end.

I bit on my bottom lip and half nodded. "…ok…, I'm sorry to put you in that category and that I'm unloading all this on you and I promise not to get drunk again because it makes me say things."

He smiled in that lopsided way, shaking his head. When he leaned far over the table, I got the idea and leaned the rest of the way. And then he kissed me.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you readers; you guys are the best. And thanks for all the well-wishes; I think things are officially back to normal. One quick thing, if you guys ever ask questions that I'm not answering, I promise I'm not ignoring you. I just lose track sometimes. So, if you have questions, either put it on Twilighted (my thread is linked in my profile) or send me a message; I don't lose them as easily that way.

Reviewers get a trip to Home Depot with Emmett.


	9. Eight: A Confession

Author's Note: Hi everyone, this chapter is in Bella's point of view.

* * *

Eight: A Confession

It had been a week since my drunken admission of "mommy issues" and I still felt pretty embarrassed about it. But Anthony hadn't mentioned it again which was nice of him.

Divulging something while tipsy probably wouldn't have bothered me so much if it hadn't been said to Anthony, but I liked him, maybe more than I should at this point. And the more I liked someone, the more paranoid I got that I'd mess it up somehow. So after that night, I tried to force myself not to over-think things, but there was something else weighing on me that was pretty real. I needed to tell him about the money.

It all started on Tuesday night. He'd rescued me from a full day study marathon to grab a bite to eat at a little Mexican place a couple blocks from my apartment. Because of my self imposed exile, I had forgone lunch in favor of water bottle after water bottle and when we got to the restaurant, I really had to use the bathroom. There was a line three people deep and one register so I told Anthony what I wanted and dashed down the short side hallway.

A couple minutes later, as I was rounding the corner to get back to the front counter, I could hear that Anthony was still ordering. I couldn't remember all that he asked for, but when he came to my order he said, "And my girlfriend will have…,"

I had never been much for public displays of affection, but right then I really wanted to lay one on him. My fluttery side was winning out so once we found a table I leaned over on my elbows and kissed him. It was the first time I'd initiated anything physical. He kissed back and I had a fleeting thought that his lips were soft and that he really knew what he was doing. When I finally pulled away, I was a little flushed and Anthony was smiling at me in that lopsided way I loved.

"What was that for?" He asked.

I shrugged, but my lips lifted at the corners. "Just seemed like the best thing to do."

And it was right about there that I realized what we were doing might really become something and that I didn't want to keep anything from him. If we stayed together, which was definitely what I was leaning toward; the subject would come up eventually whether by me or someone else. I'd much rather it was me.

So I decided to treat it like a Band-Aid and just do it. That's what I wanted at first anyway, but now it was Friday and I still hadn't said anything. But tonight was the night. I'd invited him over, saying I needed to decompress after my busy week and would really like his company – which was true.

But even though I'd taken a step, I was really afraid of how he'd react to it. When I first found out about the inheritance, I told a few of my close friends, which was a mistake. I became too different to them after that. It was like they'd forgotten that I was still me and only saw the money. Anyway, I didn't call them friends anymore.

The reactions later as it spread around my hometown had run the gamut and so I could never predict how a person would see me afterward, no matter how well I thought I knew them.

Plus, it was still there, that voice whispering that he'd probably run for the hills. Or, if not that, something just as bad.

…

I was giving myself a mental pep talk as I walked across campus that morning. It was going to be fine, and if he was freaked out by it or saw it as an opportunity…well…then it wasn't meant to be. I thought it, but I wasn't entirely convincing myself.

I wasn't wearing my ear buds after class that day so when I took a break from my inner monologue, I heard a voice near me mutter "_damn it_" with obvious exasperation.

There was a woman kneeling down to my right, her books and papers fallen around her on the grass. She was pretty, with a fair complexion and an open – if irritated – face. I went over and kneeled down to help her out; I sat my bag beside my feet and reached for one of her books. "Here you go."

"Thanks," she said without looking at me. "One of those days, you know?"

"Yeah." I straightened a stack of papers, hoping they weren't too out of order now. They were damp, but not ruined. When I glanced up to hand them over, she was staring at me. "What?" I resisted the urge to touch my face.

"I remember you."

I wasn't sure what to say. Had we had a class together? I didn't have any real friends at school, it was entirely possible that she recognized me and I'd just missed her completely. "Oh?"

"Yeah, you were the girl that was almost hit in the parking lot."

"Oh," I said, flatly. That really wasn't the kind of memory I wanted her to have of me if she was going to have one. "Um…yeah, that's me. I'm fine, though," I added, quickly.

"Good, good," she paused like she still forming her next thought. "I'm Kate, by the way."

"Bella," I handed her the last dropped sheet of paper.

We both stood up and she shuffled her things around, balancing precariously.

"Here," I put my hands out. "I think we're going in the same direction anyway."

"Thanks," she said, handing me a portion of her stack.

We made small talk as we crossed campus. Kate was an undergrad studying natural science; she had a thing for weather phenomena. She had a year left and then she was pretty sure her boyfriend was going to propose. I liked her; she was just the sort of matter-of-fact personality I seemed to attract.

"Oh, there he is," she nodded toward a small group of really good-looking people. "Garrett!" She called to him and they all turned around; Garrett gave her a little wave.

If this had been high school, Kate and her group would definitely have been the popular crowd. Kate gave me a quick introduction. There was her boyfriend, Garrett, a tall man with a wide smile and handsome features. Next was Irina, an ice blonde with angular features and a thin smile. Her boyfriend, Laurent, was a stark contrast – richly dark skin and dreadlocks that he tied loosely at the nape of his neck. He spoke with a light accent that I couldn't place.

They seemed friendly enough, if speculative about me. I answered the basic questions – What are you studying? Where are you from? – until Kate nudged my shoulder. "Isn't that the guy?" she half whispered.

"What?" I asked back, lost.

"The guy that pushed you out of the way," the others turned to look toward the parking lot.

Anthony had found a spot right in the front somehow; he was leaning against his car, a small grin on his face. When he saw me looking, his smile widened.

"He's kinda cute," Irina commented. "You're the girl from that hit and run thing?" She asked, finding me suddenly interesting.

I started to speak, but Kate interrupted.

"Is he waiting for you?" Kate asked, eyebrows furrowed. She gave him a look I wouldn't have called friendly.

It was weird, but I ignored it. "Uh, yeah, we're sort of… we're dating now."

"Really," was all she said.

"Yeah, um, I should probably get going." Garrett reached for Kate's books that I was still holding. "Thanks, it was nice meeting you guys." I gave them a quick goodbye. They were nice, but I was definitely an outsider. I liked Kate though, but as I crossed to Anthony I realized that I hadn't asked for her number or anything.

"Hi," I smiled up at Anthony. It was an unexpected surprise; I didn't think I was going to see him until tonight.

"Hey, making friends?" He asked, pulling on my belt loops. He did that a lot and I liked it more than I would admit. In fact, sometimes I purposely put some space between us just so he'd do it.

I let myself be tugged over until we were almost flush against each other. "Yeah, sort of."

He leaned down and kissed my cheek, humming quietly. "You know, I was getting paranoid watching you cross the street just now."

I rolled my eyes, but wasn't ready to pull back just yet. "I managed it fine. Besides, what are the odds of that happening again?"

"Yeah, well, I don't like chancing it." He squeezed my hips and then offered me food, which I rarely passed up.

As I was going around to the passenger side of the car, I glanced back toward Kate and her friends. Irina and Laurent were gone, and Kate and Garrett had their heads bent close as if in serious conversation. I hoped they weren't fighting. After a second, they both looked up and then in my direction. I had this funny feeling they had just been talking about me, but that was ridiculous.

…

Anthony and I spent the rest of the day together, some of it on the beach and some of it in my apartment after going back to campus for my car.

I was still trying to work up the nerve to tell him about the money, but I just couldn't find the right words. By the time I realized there weren't any, it was time for dinner with my friends.

When I started to stand up from the couch, he pulled me back down and into his lap. I felt my breath and my libido hitch. This was new. He wrapped his arms around me firmly and murmured in my ear. "Don't go tonight," his voice came out in a low rumble. "Stay with me instead."

I wasn't used to this. In my life, I'd only dated a handful of men and of those, few blossomed into anything serious. And really, I was beginning to realize that they were only serious to me at the time.

Mostly meaning it, I said, "I have to, it's tradition," but I didn't pull away.

He made this groaning sound by my neck that was almost too much to handle. That was something else that was impossible not to notice, the way his fingers brushed across my throat and the way he pressed his face between my neck and shoulder when we hugged. He was always very close, but he hadn't kissed me there yet. The anticipation made me crazy.

I leaned into him. "You could come with me; they all liked you." It was true, though what they really said was that I looked happy. Usually, they said that I look tired, so happy was a pretty good endorsement.

"Or…," one of his hands started moving from my hip; he slid just the tips of his fingers under my shirt.

"Or," I prompted, feeling a little dizzy.

"You could just stay here."

I huffed a small laugh at his argument. "We can do some -,"

Very lightly and slowly, he kissed the hollow above my collarbone. He was so much better at this than I was. "Please?"

This time I made the groaning sound. "Well…ok, I guess…but, just this once…," I really wasn't looking forward to blowing off my friends, but…I was too tied up in him tonight.

Reluctantly, I loosened myself from his grip. "I need to call and let them know." I wasn't sure what I was going to say; I wouldn't lie, but I didn't want to make anyone mad. I got up and grabbed my phone, dialing Emmett's number because I was a chicken (_pansy_, I corrected mentally). It rang four times before someone picked up.

"Bella?"

"Um…Rosalie?" She was exactly who I didn't want to cancel on.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"…I, I'm not…going to make it tonight," I knew I was floundering, but now that I'd started I couldn't stop. "I'm kinda busy…there's something -,"

"-You mean someone -,"

"-that I have to do…Wait, what?"

She laughed. "I know what you're up to."

"Up to?" At least she didn't seem angry. "I'm not…,"

"Have a good time. Don't miss next week or I'll take it personally."

"I…um…ok, I'll see you next Friday."

She hung up and I finally exhaled. When I turned around, Anthony was looking very satisfied and inviting. But I decided to do something productive to make up for the canceled dinner plans, and by productive I didn't mean sleep with Anthony, though it had definitely crossed my mind. I took a deep breath and sat down next to him. He shifted to face me all the way like he could tell my mood had changed.

"So, since we're staying in tonight, I think we need to – I mean, _I_ need to tell you something." I turned so our positions were mirrored.

He reached out and brushed his fingers across my knee.

I opened my mouth once to start, but no sound came out so I cleared my throat and tried again. "I've told you about my mom, that she passed away I mean." My mind was trying to detach, to disconnect the memories from myself, but the emotion was trickling in anyway. "We didn't really have the best relationship. It's not like what I said last week about her not being interested, I mean, she called and stuff…," I paused for a minute because my eyes had watered and I didn't want him to see me cry. "I think…we both could have done more.

"Anyway, she was married to this guy and…he had a lot of money. He…he took care of her. When he died, he left some of it – the money, I mean – to my mom." I couldn't stop picking at the skin around my nails so I fisted and released my hands, trying to relax. This next part was what I was most afraid to say.

The very first person I ever told about the inheritance was my best friend. I trusted him more than anyone. At first, he was so nice and he said that no amount of money could come between us. But it did, I felt it chip away at our lifelong friendship piece by piece until it was nearly gone. And then at lunch one day, when the bill came he pushed it to me. "You're a little rich girl now, why don't you take care of it."

Anthony scooted closer, but didn't say anything.

"It was – is – a lot. I mean…_a lot_. And then, she was in this car accident and…she," I tried to clear my closing throat. "So…she left it to me…She left everything to me."

I couldn't say the number, I knew it down to the penny, but I just couldn't say it.

I smiled halfheartedly at my hands. "I'm a millionaire."

It was quiet for a long time, long enough that I was pretty sure our goodbye tonight was going to be the last one. That thought hurt more than most and I didn't know if it was better or worse that we'd barely even started.

I didn't realize I was crying until I felt his thumb brush across the wetness on my cheek. And then he was gathering me up and pulling me against his chest. One of his hands moved into my hair and the other went around my waist. I felt anchored to him and at the same time, weightless with relief.

When my tears dried, I leaned back enough to see his face, but I couldn't read his expression. After a minute, he touched his forehead to mine, his arms resting around me. He murmured near my lips, "You're still my Bella."

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you lovelies for reading. I have no announcements that I can think of, but I'm sure I've forgotten something...


	10. Nine: It's Not Personal

Nine: It's Not Personal

In my life, there were few constants. The lies, yes, but little else. I knew the money could run out, my employer made sure my cut was only ever large enough to keep me coming back for more. Though at this point I would, regardless of the pay. Sometimes, when I let myself think about it, my arrangement became like a prison term. Once you've spent long enough behind bars, it becomes your true home.

But the life was good, that's what I believed on the days I was someone else. When I was Chris Forbes, I fell for a French girl named Adrienne. She was traveling here to find her independence and found me instead. I took her to an old drive-in theatre and to see the missions. She kissed me on the cheek in front of San Luis Rey de Francia and I plucked a flower from the gardens and put it behind her ear because she needed romance.

That's how it worked. They needed something from me and I needed something from them. For the women, it was intangible, physical, and emotional – someone to hear them and understand, someone to call them beautiful and smart and mean it. It was different from person to person; for Adrienne, it was a little innocent romance.

What I needed was always the same – money.

And I was the best at what I did because I only lied about myself. These women didn't need me, that was the most important thing to remember. They needed Chris, or whoever I'd become, because he was thoughtful and he meant the things he said. So I gave her Chris and then I stole her money. Though, as I recall, Adrienne gave Chris her money after he told her about the financial trouble he'd gotten into. I had to split myself in two like that; it was the only way to survive.

I didn't know what happened to her after I was gone; it wasn't a part of my job. I didn't know what happened to any of them.

That's what I was thinking about while Bella told me about the money I already knew she had, the money that was the sole reason I'd come into her life. It was what I needed from her, like always.

But there was some other part that I'd shoved far aside that was scaring the shit out of me. It was saying that I didn't need her money, and that she didn't need Anthony Masen.

"I'm a millionaire." She mumbled it with a fake smile and a small shrug, like the whole thing wasn't a big deal and she wasn't really crying over it.

I didn't understand it. She saw the money as a burden, not the life's blood that I did. I knew little about her mother or what happened after Bella inherited, but I knew how money changed people. But she was still her; I didn't have to have a lifelong relationship with her to understand that.

A lone tear slid over her cheekbone and it was so fucking wrong for it to be there. Bella was just too good and it wasn't right that she was this sad. I reached up to wipe it away and then I pulled her into my lap because I needed her closer.

She wasn't really crying anymore and our position made my back hurt like a bitch, but there was no way in hell I was moving. After a while, she pulled back far enough that I could see her and the little tear tracks on her face. I could tell that she was trying to read me, to see if she'd scared me off, which she hadn't. But she was also trying to look at _me_, and that's when I started to wonder what would happen to her after I was gone.

Bella would still be herself, I had to believe. It was the right thing and the only way she knew how to be.

I touched my forehead to hers; it had become something that was only ours and I relished that fact more than I was willing to admit. "You're still my Bella."

It was the only thing I could think of, but I meant what I said, which happened more frequently with Bella than most. As for the possessive, _my Bella_ - she was, for the time being. And in the future? Impossible. It couldn't happen, not after what I was doing to her.

I readjusted so I could lean back on the couch and brought her with me. Because I couldn't afford to keep going with my current train of thought, I thought about Bella's body instead, which was enough to distract me. She was little and kind of skinny, but there was something about her that was sexy as fuck. It was that she didn't ever show off anything obvious, but then I'd get a glimpse of something, like her neck, and I could barely control myself.

She was quiet for a while, but she was going to want say something, which was fine by me now because she'd finally relaxed against my chest and it felt good.

"I just…I saw what it did to my mom." She wiped her fingers under her eyes even though the skin was dry. "It's all she wanted…the status and…all the stuff…," when she paused again, I knew she was working up a defense for her mother. I was sure she didn't even realize she did it.

"I mean…I'm probably making it sound worse than it is." She gave a humorless laugh. "I know, poor little rich girl, right?"

I opened my mouth to say something, but she interrupted.

"I'm sorry; this is probably not what you were expecting tonight." Bella stopped again, working herself up to say something. She was trying so hard, I pulled her a little closer to reassure her. "I just had to tell you, I needed you to know now before…," she lifted one shoulder and dropped it.

I understood – before things got serious. She was protecting herself from heartbreak. I nosed into her hair and kissed her head. She sighed in a way that told me she felt much better and then she tried to move from my lap which incited more thoughts on the way she felt in my arms.

"Where do you think you're going?" I pulled her back down quickly and then clenched my jaw at her little surprised gasp and the way she landed right on my dick.

She moved around to get comfortable which didn't help any; leaning back on the arm of the couch so only her legs were over me. "Are you hungry or anything? I could make something, if you want."

Bella looked like she wanted to do something productive, but I didn't want her to wait on me. "You don't have to do that." I was actually hoping she'd make more brownies soon. But for now I had other things in mind, things that she seemed to suddenly understand because her face flushed lightly and she swallowed. I grinned at how wide open she could be sometimes. "Come here," I pulled her up a little until she put her arms around my neck and was close enough to kiss.

_Strawberries_, that was definitely what she smelled like, I decided. And when my tongue slid across hers, I swore that's what she tasted like too.

Bella made the smallest of noises and pushed closer, but our position was awkward. So I grabbed her hips and she settled one leg on either side of me while I fought the urge to press her down onto my growing hard-on.

Her shyness had dissipated for the moment, which was hot as hell. She kept a hand on my shoulder and the other went into my hair and tugged, which made me groan involuntarily. I felt her smile like she'd found my weakness. But I knew some of hers too. Leaning forward, I licked the spot below her ear and then moved down to the base of her neck. I wanted to bite, but I didn't want to scare her. Though, by the way her hand had tightened reflexively on my hair, I doubt she would have minded. Experimentally, I grazed my teeth over her skin. She froze for a brief second before tilting her head, exposing more of herself.

_Fuck. Me._

This was a part of the job, I reminded myself. And she was my target, my mark. Mine.

She straightened back up and then brought her mouth to mine again; I could feel her breath and the way the rest of her body was fighting to keep still. I wished she'd stop fighting, but I didn't want to push it. I slipped my hands under her shirt and felt the smooth skin of her back, her hips, her sides.

I was in control and this was my job. I had to gain her trust to get her to do what I wanted; this was all a part of it. She had to fall completely.

Bella slowed the pace to languid and I followed. I rested back on the couch and wrapped my arms around her as much as I could. I felt her tongue against mine and her lips and her body and the way I wanted it to go on and on.

It couldn't though, because my loyalty was elsewhere, not here with her. _Not here_.

On the desk near us, her phone vibrated staccato against the wood. We parted fractionally and she sighed with evident disappointment. "Just a sec," she climbed off me and stretched her legs; we'd been in the same position for a while.

I let my head fall back and I rubbed my face. I heard Bella laugh under her breath at whatever she was reading on her phone.

That was – intense. Some part of my mind wanted to analyze, pull apart and dissect, but I pushed it away. I was very adept at that.

Bella typed something into her phone and then set it down and turned on the desk lamp. When she looked at me again, the shy girl was back. She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. "Um…what are your feelings on take-out?"

I grinned at her subject change, not that we'd actually been speaking before. "I am very pro take-out."

She motioned toward her phone. "I told my dad I was having Chinese, is that ok?"

I told her that it was, because I could have really cared less, and then reached over to pull her back down with me.

…

Bella was acting differently now that she'd told me about the money. And for the moment, she was relaxed. It wasn't hard to tell that she'd never been able to talk about it with anyone.

"It's a trust fund," she handed me a bottle of beer. I gave her the rest of my orange chicken and took her fried rice. "It's…I don't really have much to do with it, actually, so I don't know why it bothers me so much…," she played with the label on her beer.

I knew that she knew exactly why it bothered her; she just had a hard time articulating it. It made me curious about something.

"It's ok," I started, referencing her ambivalence toward her mother. "You seem pretty close with your dad."

"Yeah, he's kind of all I've got," she paused for a second and then backtracked. "I mean – back home, he's all I've got back home; I don't have any other family or anything."

"What about friends?" It was hard to imagine people not falling all over themselves for her.

Bella shook her head, her expression sad. Clearly, it hadn't been the right question. "I don't have friends back home, just Charlie." She peeled her label completely off and flicked it down next to the chow mein carton.

"What's your favorite color?" I asked suddenly.

She shrugged. "It varies…green right now, I guess."

I wanted to get her out of this mood so I wrapped my hand around her bare ankle, brushing the pale skin there. I grinned, "Mine's brown, want to guess why?"

She made a face, not getting it. "Brown…why -," I could see the realization dawning because her cheeks flushed pink and she looked at her knees, which were pulled up on the couch. "Oh," the corners of her mouth turned up.

After a minute, her blush faded and she got comfortable. I put her feet in my lap. "My turn now?" She asked.

I nodded.

"Tell me about your parents."

"Um…," the lie was there, ready to be used. My mother died of cancer and my father committed suicide a few months later. I wouldn't tell it as harshly, but it would be jarring enough to keep her from asking anymore questions and it would earn sympathy. But there was something in the way and I just couldn't say it. "That's a much bigger question than mine."

"I'm sorry," she looked sheepish. "I feel like you know all about me and I don't know near as much about you."

I played with her pant leg. "There's plenty I don't know about you. When was your first kiss?"

Bella gave me a look. "You're not going to distract me." She pushed her toes ever so slightly into my thigh and for a moment, I was distracted.

"Ok," I cleared my throat and prepared my lie. "My mom passed away when I was seventeen."

She almost looked like she was going to let me off the hook after that, but she kept quiet. Instead, she reached out for my hand; her touch was gentle and it made me remember whatever it was that was trying to block the lie.

"And my dad…he's - still around somewhere…,"

_I am such a fucking moron_.

I realized belatedly that the first time I mentioned my parents, I'd told her they were both dead. It was only in passing, but I was cursing myself now, hoping she wouldn't remember. "Can we talk about something else?" I asked.

Bella did end up telling me about her first kiss and how the guy licked her, which was disgusting. "Unless you do it the right way," I told her.

I tried to regain some of the lightness from before, but it was too late. Around eleven, I decided I'd fucked up enough for one evening and called it a night. Bella walked me to the door and I kissed her goodnight, but it was quick and left me wanting.

…

My employer's phone call woke me up the next morning. He did it on purpose, I was sure, calling early to catch me off guard. You're more likely to give an honest answer that way.

I turned onto my back and squeezed my eyes shut. "Hello?"

"Anthony, good morning." He sounded very awake. "I trust things are progressing with the girl."

"Yes, they're – they're good. She told me about the money so…it's probably only a matter of time." My focus so far had been on gaining her trust; the next part of the plan had been pushed out of my mind.

"So soon? Very impressive," I could hear that he was smiling and I sat up straighter. "Isabella has a meeting in Los Angeles on Monday," he changed the subject abruptly.

I wanted to tell him that she preferred Bella, but I kept my mouth shut.

"You are to go with her." He said it like it was already done. "We have a friend there, understand?"

"How will I -,"

"They'll find you."

* * *

Author's Note: Hi everyone, thanks for reading. So, I have a proposition for you. I'm looking for a couple of pre-readers, if anyone is interested. It wouldn't be the same work as a beta; if you let me know (in a message, preferably), I can explain the kind of help I'm looking for in a little more detail and we can talk about giving it a go.

Thanks again, you guys really make my day :)


	11. Ten: It's Business

Ten: It's Business

I spent all weekend trying to come up with a lie convincing enough to get Bella to take me with her to L.A. This should have been my comfort zone; this was where I lived. But fuck if I could think of anything believable.

First, I needed Bella to tell me she was going. She hadn't alluded to being busy on Monday and I didn't think she would mention it at all. That part of her life was still kept mostly hidden from public view. She didn't drive a flashy car, carry around a designer bag, and I could guess that she didn't live much beyond the means provided by her graduate stipend in general. I saw a goddamn coupon for juice stuck to her fridge, for Christ's sake.

On Sunday, I resorted to flat out asking about her plans for the next day. It was late afternoon and there were no crowds at the beach, so we walked from her apartment with a towel big enough for the both of us.

Bella had kicked her sandals off and was on her back, her eyes closed against the still bright sun. She was in a very small pair of denim shorts and I couldn't look at her skin and think at the same time, but I sat up anyway so that her bent knees were closer to eye level.

_Screw it_, I thought. I hadn't seen her since Friday. I leaned over and wrapped my hand around her slim calf and kissed the top of her shin, lingering for longer than was necessary. I heard the intake of her breath and smelled that same light scent from her neck. It had to be soap or something; she couldn't smell this edible naturally.

I wanted to kiss her again so I did, a little higher up than the last time. Her muscles flexed under my hand and I rubbed the tension away.

"Anthony…," she said, her eyes still closed.

It was difficult to say whether she said it as a warning or an invitation; it sounded like a little of both. "Hmm?" I leaned back, but didn't stop touching her.

"…I don't remember."

I grinned and lay down on my back next to her. We stayed that way, idly talking, until I realized we were running out of daylight. The sun had just started to dip into the water and Bella had mentioned not staying out late because of an essay she was writing.

I had to say something, I had to get her to tell me about her meeting, and I had to be persuasive enough that she agreed to me coming with her.

Bella had turned onto her side and was running her fingertips over my arm as she recounted the thesis of her essay; the whole thing felt damn good. It was so normal.

And fuck, I just didn't want to do it. I didn't want to go with her tomorrow. There had to be a way to stretch this out, but then I thought of my employer and what he might do on his own to speed the progress. He hadn't ever intervened as far as I knew, but patience was not something he possessed.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" I asked. It was as good an opening as any.

Her fingers moved from my arm and she turned onto her stomach, her upper body propped up by her elbows. "I kind of – I have some stuff to take care of tomorrow, actually."

"Stuff that's going to take all day?" I probed, feeling like a dick.

She sighed. "Yeah, it might," she sounded unhappy about it, which wasn't surprising.

"Would you like some company?"

"You don't even know what I'm doing." She looked amused and not suspicious; that was promising.

I kept my tone light. "Well, unless you're planning on freeing all the animals at the zoo, I'm game."

Bella smiled. "No, that I'll have to do at night." She fidgeted with her hands, picking at the skin around her nails. "I've got to drive up to L.A. right after class for something."

"Ah," was all I said.

"I have these meetings about my trust fund that I go to every month, it's just a state-of-things…thing."

"That doesn't sound bad."

"Yeah, well…,"

I reached over and tugged at her pinky finger softly, pulling it away from her mouth. "I could take the edge off…,"

A minute passed before she said anything and before she did, I knew she was going to tell me no. "I think I better just go by myself…if that's ok," she tacked on at the end.

I wanted to ask why, but that would be pushing it too much. I had been banking on her wanting support of some kind, but now I realized that she'd been to several of these meetings on her own already. It was this other part of her life that I still had very limited access to.

So Bella had said no, I'd tried and gotten rejected. I was relieved. There would be some other way at some other time. That's what I was going to tell my employer - I'd done all I could. He would have to live with that.

Except that he wouldn't. I didn't know exactly what he might say or do, but he would definitely be sorely disappointed.

_Shit_. It was a catch-22, but with Bella's life involved. At the moment, I was less worried about what would happen to me.

…

My phone was sitting on my coffee table and it was ringing. My anxiety spiked and I felt a cold sweat on my forehead and a knotting in my stomach when I reached to answer it. This was what I had hoped for though, his call. That way he wouldn't have to find out later that I had failed. I was going to tell him now and then re-group; he couldn't fault me too harshly for my first real mistake.

So why did I feel like I wanted to vomit?

I swallowed thickly and answered.

"Anthony, I trust everything is set for tomorrow?" He asked like it was just a formality.

My knee was bouncing so I stood up and paced. "Actually, she wanted to go by herself. I couldn't persuade her -,"

"You let what she wants stop you?" He asked, his annoyance implied.

"I couldn't force her to invite me and if I pushed anymore she would have gotten suspicious…," I wasn't going to tell him that my attempt had been half-hearted.

"I thought you were better than this, Anthony, but I suppose not."

His disappointment cut sharply and I heard myself stammering out apologies before I could curb them.

"Oh, you should hear yourself, stop it," he ordered. "Well, fix it. It's important that we move on this now, do you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Tomorrow is your best opportunity, so _convince_ her; I don't care how you do it. I'll be in touch."

"Alright, good b-,"

He had already hung up.

There was no good way to change her mind at this point. Bella wanted to go alone. She liked me, but not that much - not yet anyway. This was too soon, if I could move it back just a few weeks even, I could get her to trust me.

I tugged on my hair; _this_ _couldn't work_. I had motherfucking nothing except my boss breathing down my neck and I was expected to change Bella's mind tonight? Bella didn't seem the type to be so easily swayed once she'd made a decision. And this was intensely personal to her. I didn't know why she hung on to this money if she hated it so much, but she did and now here I was.

I checked the time; it was after eleven. If I showed up at her door right now she'd think I was crazy, or drunk. I could call, but she was probably in bed already. Though she did say she had a paper to work on, it was remotely possible she was still up.

I was dialing before I could think too much about it. It rang five times and I was sure it was going to go to voice mail when she finally picked up. Her hello was groggy; she'd been asleep.

"Anthony?" She said it in a friendly way and I felt like an asshole.

"Were you asleep already? I'm sorry; I thought you might still be up." It was true enough.

"Yeah," I could hear her sheets rustling while she changed positions. "Are you alright?" She let out a loud yawn on the "alright" part; she was cute when she was half awake.

I'm -," I cleared my throat, "I'm fine…just couldn't sleep." Shit, I couldn't do it. "Well, I'll let you get back to sleep, Bella."

"No, wait…stay, do you want to talk or something?"

"No, it's ok. Go back to bed, sweetheart. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

She said goodnight.

I was screwed.

That night I had a dream about Bella. She was in her school's parking lot, talking and laughing when a car screeched to a stop next to her. The door opened and out of the darkness, a hand reached and grabbed her by the hair. They yanked her inside while she screamed. I did nothing but stand there and watch.

I sat up fast, breathing in rough gasps. I couldn't stop what we were doing to her; our claws were in way too deep. But I could be there between her and those that wouldn't hesitate to hurt her to get their way.

The next morning, I went to Bella's campus. I waited until the lot was clear and most everyone was in class. When I was sure I wouldn't be caught, I broke into her car to release the hood. Quickly, I shut her door and then pushed the hood up all the way, to anyone looking it would seem as though I was checking something on my own car. I thought for a second and then disconnected the starter relay. It was simple enough to fix, but Bella wasn't a car person and I didn't think she'd notice it. I slammed the hood shut and then jumped back into my car for the short trip back home.

My plan was risky; I couldn't know if she'd call me for a ride. She might be more knowledgeable about it since it was her own car and fix it right away, she might have a friend with her that would do it, she might call someone else for a ride, reschedule her meeting, call AAA… There were myriad ways this wouldn't work.

But at twenty minutes after eleven, my phone rang.

"So, still feel like going to L.A. with me?"

…

The drive up took a couple of hours and Bella was fidgety for about half the time. She said she'd tried calling Rosalie first, who was apparently an automotive genius, but got her voice mail. Her other friends were all working. So I was the last choice; I almost laughed at how close a call this had been. And then I remembered what I was doing.

She put her hand over mine on the center console. "Thanks for this; I'm sure you had better things to do today."

I shook my head. "I'd rather be with you."

At least this way, she wasn't by herself. I tried to figure out who it was I was supposed to be meeting and how they were going to know me, but I had only farfetched guesses. Sitting there, I realized how in the dark I really was about the things around me. I thought I knew everything, or enough, but I was beginning to see that I didn't know anything at all.

I'd called James a pawn on this chessboard we maneuvered – well, I was too. There was a stab of something at the acknowledgement of being no better than James.

And then my employer's words were in my head before I could shove them aside - _I thought you were better than this, Anthony, but I suppose not. _I shut those thoughts down fast. He'd been there for me when I was alone.

…

"_Hey man, spare some change?" My fingernails were brown with grime, but I had no pride anymore as I held a hand out. It shook in the fierce cold of a Chicago winter._

_The man breezed past like he always did. He had his routine, whatever it was, and I had mine. Ours just happened to intersect right here at the stone steps of this office building every night. Like clockwork, he'd come around the corner and walk by, not giving me a second look. He never went into the building; I didn't know what the hell he did. What I did know was that he looked filthy fucking rich._

_When he was a yard or so away from me, I called out. "Come on man, I'm fucking starving here." I didn't know why I did it, maybe I really was that damn hungry. It was a foreign feeling that had become too familiar to me; it was like I was past hungry and now I was literally caving in on myself._

_He didn't say anything that day, but he did turn around to look at me for a moment._

_The next day, I picked his pocket. The street was crowded with evening Christmas shoppers and it was almost too easy. Inside his wallet was a fat wad of cash. I didn't bother with the credit cards because all that cash meant food and a motel room for a night or two and that was good enough for me._

_The night after, a town car pulled up in front of the building. I don't know how I knew it was here for me, but I did. I felt my stomach twist at the sight of it and I thought I might lose the burger I'd just finished. _

_The rich man stepped out from the backseat. He walked over to me, not quickly, but assured. My thoughts vacillated between, he's going to kill me for stealing his wallet, and goddamn, that coat looks warm. He stopped in front of where I was sitting; his shoes were black and polished to a high shine. _

"_Stand up."_

_I did as I was told, unable to speak._

"_Get in the car."_

_My mouth opened like a fish and I shook my head. I wasn't used to people talking to me anymore and this guy scared the shit out of me. He was wearing black gloves, _no fingerprints_, a voice in my head whispered._

_He looked amused by my refusal. "How old are you, kid?"_

_I didn't know why he asked, but I stammered out a reply anyway. "E-eight-eighteen."_

_He nodded. "You stole my wallet yesterday."_

_It didn't sound like a question so I didn't give him an answer._

"_You've got balls, kid. I'll give you that."_

_I had no idea what he wanted, but the wallet and what was left of the cash was in my pocket. I reached for it all and held it out to him. I was desperate, but I really didn't want to die tonight, no matter how much I thought I probably deserved it._

_He waved it away, dismissive. "Keep it." He looked at me again in that appraising way he had. "Want to make some money?"_

"_W-what?" I stuck my hands back in my pockets; I didn't have gloves and it was starting snow. I couldn't feel my toes._

"_Mon-ey," he said, slowly. When I didn't respond, he seemed to change his mind. "Fine, forget I asked." He turned to leave._

_I wasn't stupid; I knew he wasn't going to give me money out of the kindness of his heart. I watched him open the car door; I could almost feel the heater from here. "W-wait." _

_He stopped._

"_W-what do you want?" I thought of the things he could ask and what I'd be willing to do; I felt like I couldn't breathe right and my heart hammered against my ribs._

_He shook his head minutely. "Not what you're thinking."_

_I don't know why I couldn't talk to him, but I couldn't. My tongue felt stuck to the roof of my mouth._

_He stepped back from the open door and the space around him was black. "Get in the car."_

…

He'd saved my life; I owed him that. My wants aside, I could do this. I would do this.

Bella directed me once we were in the city to the parking garage she used. She said it wasn't far from where we were going, but I still worried if she'd be comfortable in the heels she was wearing. I'd never seen her in anything but flat shoes. In fact, I'd never seen her dressed this way before. She wore a dark pair of trousers and this purple satin top that I couldn't stop touching. Her hair was pulled up and if she wore glasses, she'd complete my librarian fantasy.

Outside, the smog and exhaust trapped the heat of the day, pressing in from all sides. Together, we walked up the street until we came to a massive glass building. The panes were reflective and bright and there was no name on the front, but I knew this place was called Kane, Jenson, and Jenks.

I opened the heavy door and followed Bella inside. The air was much cooler, but I still felt too warm.

The lobby was sparely decorated and severely modern. To the right and left were security guards and ahead of us was a large reception area with several people working. Everything was glass; it was strange being able to see the outside from all around me. At the back of the expansive space, an elevator dinged. Inside, a man in a pinstripe suit spoke heatedly on a cell phone while he was moved several floors above us. I wondered if any of them ever got tired of the lack of privacy.

Bella spoke to reception and several people there recognized her. One woman fluttered around, calling up for someone while simultaneously offering coffee and just about anything else we wanted. Bella declined politely and we went to sit on one of the lobby's leather couches. Now I understood why she normally came alone. It wasn't only that I wasn't close enough to her yet. It was that Bella was a very rich woman and all of these people knew it.

She grabbed my hand, uncomfortable with all the attention. "So…this is probably going to be pretty boring for you -,"

"I'll be fine." I brought our joined hands up and kissed hers. "Is there anything I should be expecting?"

"N-actually, yeah maybe. My lawyer is…different."

"How so?" I wondered if he was the person I was supposed to meet and if he was, why was I necessary in the first place? I didn't know much about the process, but surely he could have been draining the money a little at a time or something.

"He's a little nervous, I think he -," she lowered her voice, "never mind, time to go."

"Miss Swan, so good to see you again." A woman called out as she approached. She wore a sharply pressed suit and red lipstick; it looked like she needed to undo her hair.

Bella whispered with a small smile on her face. "That's his assistant; he doesn't like to leave his office."

We followed her into the elevator up to the thirty second floor and then down a wide hallway. On one side were glass fronted offices and ahead of us were clusters of desks where people seemed inordinately concentrated on their work. We passed them and went down a narrower hall, at the end of which was a conference room and a private office. _Who did you have to be to have opaque walls? _The assistant knocked and announced herself before slowly opening the door.

I noticed the plate on the wall – _Jason Jenks. _So her lawyer was on the letterhead, that was interesting.

The room was very big, with space for a heavy mahogany desk at the far well, several shelves, and a dark rectangular table in the center where three people currently sat. The only male, Mr. Jenks I assumed, jumped out of his seat as we entered.

"Miss – Miss Swan," he spoke to her, but stared at me. He held a handkerchief in one hand. "I didn't know you were bringing a – a friend. Perhaps he'd be more comfortable in the conference room?" His wide forehead was beginning to sweat and his face looked permanently flushed. "I can have Christine get him some lunch, if he'd like." His gaze flickered back and forth between Bella and me quickly.

I was almost going to take him up on the offer just to put him out of his misery.

"I'd rather he stay here, if that's ok." Bella spoke up and squeezed my hand.

Mr. Jenks discreetly wiped his forehead as he moved to sit back down, apparently in acquiescence. The two women at the table stood briefly, introducing themselves as Victoria van Leuvan and Angie Harper. They were…pristine. I realized how out of place I must have looked in my jeans as we sat down.

Jenks cleared his throat and wrung his handkerchief between his hands once before setting it on the table. He cleared his throat again. "Let's um – let's get to it then. Angie, why don't you get us started."

She opened up a file and passed a sheet to Bella that the others already held in front of them; it looked like some sort of agenda. She started talking about Bella's portfolio and their investment strategy; she mentioned some property in Florida and how the value hadn't decreased much despite the current economic downturn.

I tried to pay attention, but was distracted by the woman named Victoria. At first, I thought she was checking me out, which was brazen, all things considered. But her gaze wasn't one of a woman who found me attractive; it was too calculating. It was the look of someone that knew exactly who I was and what I did.

She was the one I was supposed to meet; I just knew it. My eyes lifted to meet hers briefly, but she did nothing but flick a section of dark red hair back over her shoulder. Her face was striking, but cold.

My mind turned over, trying to remember the few things Bella told me in the car. Mr. Jenks was Renee's lawyer before she passed away; Angie and Victoria were an accountant and financial planner. And now they were the trustees in charge of Bella's inheritance. If they managed her money, why didn't they simply lie and put the money into a fake investment?

Unless it was only Victoria that was dirty. The other two would surely be suspicious if a woman with the experience and knowledge that Victoria certainly had was "duped" into giving money to a fake organization.

But none of that quite answered the question - with at least Victoria on the inside, what was I here for? What was it that I had to get Bella to do?

This was beginning to feel much bigger than I thought.

When my focus on the meeting returned, I saw that Angie had finished speaking and Victoria was taking over. She talked about what they were planning for the future and what Bella could expect from it. I wondered if she understood it because I didn't.

When it was clear that Victoria was wrapping up, Bella spoke for the first time since we sat down. "Um, I think I'd like to change my charitable contributions," she said it almost like she was asking permission. "What I mean is…I'd like to devote more toward – that."

Victoria let a pleased smile spread across her face. "Excellent, Isabella."

They talked about that for a few minutes, with Victoria making suggestions as to how much and where to donate. Bella seemed happy about it.

When the meeting finished, we all stood up and the gnawing feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. Bella, on the other hand, looked relieved to have it over with for another month.

"Did you get a hair cut, Angie? It looks really nice."

Angie smiled and lifted a hand to finger the ends of her hair. Now they were going to talk and what I really wanted to do was get the hell out of there. I didn't know what information I was supposed to glean from this meeting that Victoria didn't already know, but I would try to remember everything anyway.

Victoria strode past me while Bella was still distracted. "Excuse yourself," she murmured, barely pausing her movement as she left the office.

I looked at Bella, who was laughing at something Angie said.

It would be my only chance to step out without Bella following right behind. This was what I had come for; it was my job and Bella was my mark.

My fucking beautiful, too perfect _mark_.

I looked at the door on my right, the girl on my left. My whole body was itching to move and I had to make a decision now because my window of opportunity was closing fast.

Did I stay here with her? Or go?

* * *

Author's Note: Hello lovelies! So, I was fully expecting to get maybe two or three offers to pre-read for me, but you guys stepped up in droves! Thank you again for offering your time, I think I sent messages to everyone (I hope!).

Big, gigantic thank you to lasergirl20 who has given me tons of financial information! Seriously, I asked her a million questions and she answered them all. She has made an appearance in this chapter as Angie (who might pop up again in another chapter).

And thank you to my new pre-readers: jedigirlsc, SydneyAlice, and SabLuvsLogan; you help make all this better :)


	12. Eleven: Questions

Eleven: Questions

I didn't always understand what the trustees were saying. It was sort of like knowing the basics of a foreign language. I could get the gist of everything, but I definitely couldn't explain it in detail to anyone.

And the whole place just made me feel uncomfortable – the glass and the suits and the way I was catered to. I felt the need to pull my hair back and wear heels; I wore the same black pair once a month which were never properly broken in. By the time Anthony and I walked into Mr. Jenks' office, I was sorely missing my flats. Discreetly, I pulled my feet out of them during the meeting to stretch my aching toes.

I slipped them back on when it was clear things were wrapping up. I needed to talk to Victoria and she was too intimidating for me to talk to without shoes on. She had never been anything but cordial, but I had the distinct feeling of inferiority when I was around her. There was just something icy there and I didn't like it. Regardless, she seemed pleased about my request and I finally relaxed.

Donating more to charity had been on my mind for a while. Actually, since I learned about the money, I wanted to give most – if not all – of it away. But then I thought of my dad and how he so badly wanted me to use it for my education, or for travel or a home, and all the other things he said he couldn't give me.

…

"_Hey dad, I fixed the garbage disposal." I wiped my hands on the dirty rag hanging from my jean's pocket. I stood up, after an hour of being hunched over and one decent bump on the head, and stretched._

_Charlie came in and sat heavily at the kitchen table, clearly worn out. "It was broken?" He took off his gun belt and put it on top of the scattered newspaper. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have looked at it."_

_I shrugged. "It's fine now, so…,"_

"_Bells," he sighed. "You don't have to do this stuff -,"_

"_Dad -,"_

"_Bella, last week you re-caulked the shower."_

"_It needed it." _

"_I'm supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around." He paused, but I knew there was going to be more so I didn't say anything. After a few seconds, he continued, "we need to talk about this money."_

_I bristled and crossed my arms over my chest. "What about it?"_

"_I want you to keep it," he raised one finger when I opened my mouth to argue. "I want you to keep it and do something good with it…something good for yourself, Bella. Go to school or, or something. You can't just stay here for the rest of your life."_

"_What if I like it here?"_

_He kept his eyes on the table, which was the only way he was able to get the difficult things out. "You're too…look, you're gonna go out and do things. Forks is no place for you."_

"_Dad -,"_

"_I want you to keep the money. Tell me you'll use it for yourself, Bells. Go get your degree and stuff."_

_I hated that he thought life in Forks was too small for me and I could have debated that with him until I turned blue, but it was no use. I could see how important this was, so I sighed, too tired of having this same argument all the time. "I…I guess I could apply to some schools, but you know, that doesn't mean I'll get in or anything."_

"_That's all I'm asking."_

…

I could see that Mr. Jenks was getting anxious for us all to leave, but Angie was talking and I didn't want to cut her off. I felt bad for Jenks; I didn't know what happened to him, but rumor had it that he hadn't always been so…the way he was. There were stories that floated around that even I heard sometimes down at reception, but they were way too over the top to be real.

Victoria seemed to pick up on his hints pretty clearly because she walked out almost right away. After another minute or so, I saw Anthony making his way to the door.

"Hey, are you alright?" I asked.

He turned around. "Um, yeah, where's the bathroom?"

"Down the hall, second door to your right," Angie supplied.

He nodded in thanks and then left, closing the door behind him.

I talked with Angie for another couple of minutes and tried to engage Jenks in conversation, but it was limited at best. I did the same thing every month and every month I was rebuffed. Rumors aside, I was almost positive that it was just some kind of anxiety disorder that Jenks was suffering from. When he wiped his forehead with his handkerchief for a second time, I said a quick thank you and goodbye before excusing myself.

Anthony was waiting at the end of the hallway that opened to the main work space, leaning back against the wall. He pushed upright when he saw me. "Hey," he reached out like he was going to grab my belt loops, but these pants didn't have any. Instead, he put his hands on my hips and pulled me the last few inches. Before I could say anything, he lowered his mouth to mine.

I pushed up on my toes and kissed him back, forgetting where we were until I felt his tongue touch my bottom lip. I pulled back a little, my breathing on the heavy side. "Hi," I grinned up at him. "Are you ready to go?"

"Definitely." He put his hand on my lower back as we walked and I tried not to lean into him too much.

…

Anthony's stomach growled loudly.

"I think it's about that time." I didn't know about him, but I hadn't eaten anything since my half a bagel that morning. The trip into L.A. ended up taking all day and the drive back was excruciatingly slow. I had discovered over the last few months that I had a little bit of road rage, so I was grateful that someone more patient was driving.

He stopped for food, getting cheeseburgers with everything, fries, and chocolate shakes for the both of us. He handed it to me so he could drive and shrugged. "I haven't eaten yet today."

"Jenks' assistant would've ordered some lunch for you; you didn't have to stay in there." I hadn't really thought any further than him getting bored. I should have just asked him to go, but at the same time, having him there with me today was really nice.

"Maybe I wanted to," he said, taking one hand off the wheel to pull a handful of fries from the bag; he put them all in his mouth at once. "So," he swallowed hard, "do you think your car will be alright in the lot overnight? I can take you over there and look at it in the morning."

I had forgotten all about it. I didn't know what was wrong; the engine wasn't even trying to turn over. If someone wanted to steal it, they'd have a heck of a time getting it anywhere. "Yeah…they have cameras on all the lots anyway in case something happened."

"They do?"

"Yeah," I frowned, thinking back to the story I'd heard. "This girl was attacked last year after a night class. It was her ex-boyfriend, but still…," campus security had them installed within a few weeks of the incident. Mentioning it reminded me of something else.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, my - accident was on film." I looked at him, unsure if I even wanted to say anything more. The whole thing had become one big dead-end anyway.

Anthony parked at the curb near the front of my building. "Did they get anything from it?"

I slipped my shoes back on and we both got out. On the way up to my apartment I told him that they hadn't. Local law enforcement had been contacted, but the license plate had come back as not being registered to anything. It was a fake. And the man's face hadn't been caught on camera either. I had been positive that it was some dumb kid, but now I wasn't really sure. Who would do something like that? And, more importantly, why? I had a handful of friends and definitely no enemies I was aware of. The whole thing scared me, but nothing else had happened so I was trying to put it out of my mind.

Anthony wrapped his hand around my wrist before I could unlock my door. "I won't let anything happen to you." It was kind of an intense thing to say; Anthony was usually pretty easygoing, but I could see that he meant it. I stretched up to kiss him and he smiled against my mouth. "You taste like chocolate shake." And just like that, he was back to being himself.

We ate in relative quiet, chatting about happier things. He told me about learning to play baseball as a kid and how for the whole first year he thought it was called a "pop fry." He said he still had his very first glove and that his favorite player was Ty Cobb. It gave me an idea, but I decided to make it a surprise.

After dinner, he got the trash together while I went to change out of my grown up clothes. I pulled on a pair of pajama shorts because Anthony seemed to like them, and a tank top. It felt good to be in plain cotton again.

When I got back to the living room, I flopped down on the couch and him, playfully putting my feet up on his lap. I wasn't serious, but before I could move them off, he started rubbing the ball of one foot with his thumbs. He did that for a while, moving down to my arch, and then my heel, and then through the whole circuit again. He did it twice on both feet before he said anything.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Mm-hmm," I said, my eyes half closed.

He moved back to the ball of my foot, rubbing slow circles. "Do you know what you're going to do with the money? Long term, I mean."

I swallowed, trying not to let the question bring me out of the melted relaxation I was feeling. "Well…part of it's going toward my degree. I was thinking about a house down the line, I'm not really sure. And…I want to do something for my dad." I had thought about it a lot, but that was the first time I'd actually said it out loud to anyone.

"Oh?" He stopped his ministrations and turned to better face me.

"Yeah, I don't know what though. I thought maybe I would try and retire him, but he'd never go for it. He's going to carry that badge forever, I bet. I know he wouldn't want a new house…," I was kind of at a loss.

"Is there anything he likes to do?"

"Fish, but I want to do more than just…get him a bigger boat." I stretched and felt Anthony graze his fingers over my leg, feather light. "I don't know."

"You guys are really close…," he let the thought trail off. I wondered if he was thinking about his own father.

"We took care of each other, I guess. He's -," I stopped myself. I'd been about to say that Charlie was the only constant I'd ever had, but a little niggling thought popped into my head at the same time.

_Anthony's father_… There was something there, I just couldn't remember what.

"Hey," his fingers slid up the undersides of my calves to the backs of my knees. "Come here for a minute.

I leaned up, attempting to look teasing. "Just for a minute?"

"Ok, maybe longer than that." He lifted one corner of his mouth and gave me the most obviously suggestive look I'd ever seen, but I sort of liked it.

…

Over the last few days, Kate and I had taken to meeting in one of the quads to walk together to the parking lot. We usually only had time for pleasantries before she'd meet up with Garrett, but it was a nice routine we'd stumbled on to. Kate was funny in a no BS way and I hoped this would become an actual friendship, but I didn't know how to ask her to do something without it sounding like I was coming on to her.

On Tuesday, she told me that Garrett had proposed in bed over the weekend. She showed me the ring and said he called her the love of his life and didn't want to wait any longer to get married. "We're going to Vegas in four weeks, after the semester's done," she smiled widely.

"Wow…congratulations!" It seemed really fast, but she also looked so happy. I thought if I knew her better, Kate getting married almost on a whim wouldn't have sounded so strange to me. Although, the idea of marriage in general wasn't all that appealing, so I guess I was biased.

After she talked a little more about their plans, she surprised me by bringing up Anthony. "So, you guys are – together, together?"

"Yeah…," it was kind of a funny way to put it.

"And you met the day of the accident?"

"Yeah," I said again. Something in the pit of my stomach tightened involuntarily.

"How has that been going?"

We stopped on the sidewalk next to the parking lot. Kate was looking at me in a way that I'm sure was supposed to show concern, but it was actually making me nervous.

I didn't really know what to say so I went with, "it's good, great actually."

She gave me an odd look. "Strange, huh? He saves you, someone he's never met…and now he's your boyfriend, just like that." Her expression was leading, like she wanted me to catch on to her train of thought.

What was she getting at? I could feel myself getting defensive, and I really wanted to keep quiet, but I couldn't. "Kate, it wasn't - 'just like that', we've spent a lot of time together and -,"

"I've noticed that."

I forced myself to count to five, but I only made it to three. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She raised a hand up a little, looking contrite. "Look, I don't want to make you mad. I'm just -," she stopped mid-sentence and glanced up over my shoulder. I turned and saw that Anthony had parked today and was walking over to meet us. I cringed internally because there was a small part of me that wished he wasn't here, or that he'd at least shown up a few minutes later.

When he met my eyes, he smiled warmly and I found myself smiling back automatically. What could Kate possibly be concerned about? She'd never even met him.

"Hey, I've got to go," she said suddenly. "I'm sorry about…you know." She paused and then asked, "Do you want to get lunch or something this week? I'm off early on Fridays." She took a step back and then turned around without waiting for my answer.

That was weird.

Anthony came up beside me and put an arm over my shoulder. "Hey, who was that?"

I looked off in the direction Kate had gone. "A friend."

He pulled me so we were facing each other and then slipped his thumbs just under the hem of my t-shirt. I loved the rough/soft feel of them. "Hey," he said again.

He leaned down and kissed me and I could feel my worries melting – just like that.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to my pre-readers (jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan, and SydneyAlice), and to those of you that are reading/recommending/reviewing/etc this story; the response has been amazing. It makes it more fun to write :)

Also, I have a playlist up on my homepage (linked from my profile). It's updated through the previous chapter right now, so go check it out if you'd like. I'll be adding to it as the story goes on.

Last, I've been nominated for a Silent Tear Award for Best Author; I have no idea who nominated me for that, but thanks! The link is in my profile and I think voting ends in a couple days so go take a look! There's lots of great stories nominated.


	13. Twelve: The Game

Twelve: The Game

Shit, she wanted to do something for her father. She was so fucking generous. If she'd been holding a puppy when she told me, I would have been done for. And I was about to take that all away.

…

A quick "where's the bathroom" was the best that I could come up with when she looked at me like that – innocent and curious and totally trusting. That look said I didn't need any more time, she'd do anything I wanted, I knew it.

I stepped out of the office and shut the door behind me. To my left, I saw a flash of red hair as Victoria slipped into a dark conference room. I followed, seeing first the glass wall that looked out to the building next door, then hearing her voice too close to my ear. "You're a lot sexier than the last man I worked with."

She tried to pull me closer and I could feel the heat under her clothes. I shrugged her off. "What am I doing here?" I tried to get the chemical scent of her perfume out of my nose; it smelled like amber and alcohol.

Victoria pouted; it was a far cry from the ice queen she'd been during the meeting. She looked bored and sex starved and when I made no motion toward her, she crossed her arms. "Have it your way then. Alright, when Isabella first came here, she was toying with the idea of liquidating her money and giving it all to charity," she said it as if that type of kind-heartedness was abhorrent to her.

"So, now we need you to make that happen," she finished.

"Why can't you do it? Siphon a little at time or something?" I knew I was showing my hand, but I didn't care. If I was going to hurt Bella like this, I needed to at least know why.

Her expression changed to one of irritation. "Jason Jenks and Angie Harper," she spat. "Those fucking do-gooders think she's the second coming or something. If there's even a dollar out of place, I hear about it. I can't get anything done around them." She pulled a small slip of paper out of her suit jacket pocket and handed it to me, written on it was the name of a website.

"What's -,"

"Our employer wants all of it; get her to give it up. I'm sure you've done that in at least one way already," she smirked at me. "If she gives the order, Jenks will do what she wants."

My jaw clenched as I stuffed the paper in my jeans pocket. "Fine."

She came closer and touched my arm; she was saying something else, but I wasn't listening anymore. I followed her out, stopping near the bathrooms to wait for Bella. I fought the urge to pace.

We were going to play on her generosity and then rob her blind. She wouldn't even know it, not right away at least. She'd think it was all going to a worthy cause, that she was helping people.

Bella came down the hall, looking happy to see me.

…

I begged off from seeing Bella during the evenings for the next couple of days, needing time to think. I thought not being around her would help me to get organized. I needed money, the target had it. And repeat.

First, I went to the site Victoria had given me. After looking at the paper again I knew what it was, but knowing and actually seeing it were completely different. The words "_Building Bridges_" went across the home page.

It was a website for a fucking _children's charity_. I clicked through the various tabs – _Mission Statement, About Us, Parents, Connect, Gallery, In the News, Corporate Partners, Volunteer, Make a Donation. _It proclaimed to be an umbrella organization that funneled money into various children's cancer research groups, a way to "bridge" the distance between the community and the science.

It had everything down to the pictures of children smiling from their hospital beds, parents by their side. There were countless news articles about the good _Building Bridges_ did for the world and videos of exactly how each dollar was used. The highest donators were called "Angels." I watched a ten minute interview of a woman extolling the virtues of giving to those that needed it so badly. Her eyes watered as she told the story of her own young daughter, who passed away just last year. I watched her dab away the tears with a crinkled tissue.

It was all complete bullshit.

I recognized that woman and she'd never had any children. She was nothing more than a prize, a trophy to be displayed proudly on the arm of the man that had won her. Her name was Tanya, and she was my employer's wife. Pride and vanity had always been his favorite sins after greed.

So, that was the plan. I had to convince Bella that her first instincts were right – she _should_ give her money away, all of it. Except, she wouldn't be giving it to a charity combating cancer, she would be giving it to us. I felt disgusted. _I'm the bad guy_.

My phone rang in my pocket and I pulled it out on autopilot. "Yes?"

"Anthony, I trust things went well?" He began with no preamble.

I rubbed my eyes, feeling suddenly exhausted. "Yes, I met Victoria, saw the website."

"It's something, isn't it? I thought Tanya was particularly moving," he said with some warmth.

"Bella isn't stupid," I felt the need to defend her and poke holes in my employer's plan; it was reckless of me, but I couldn't help it. "Even if I'm able to convince her, her lawyer is going to check this out before they go through with it."

"Don't doubt yourself, or me, for that matter. Our bases are covered. For all intents and purposes, the charity is legitimate. Now, you worry about doing your job and leave the rest to me." The way he said the last part caused something to clench in the pit of my stomach. "Are we clear?"

"Clear," I answered.

…

I felt like I was losing my fucking mind.

There was only one person I wanted to see, someone who would simultaneously make it all better and worse. But I couldn't even look at her anymore. And I needed time to think; I needed time to remember which side I was on.

…

I hadn't seen Bella since Tuesday afternoon, though I'd found myself reaching for my keys more than once. By Thursday, I'd done enough brooding, but I still had only the most tentative hold on myself.

I was tying my shoes when my phone started ringing; I grabbed it off the table and stood up. "Bella?"

"Hi, I have a surprise for you, where do you live?" She rushed out, sounding a little nervous.

A surprise? _Shit_. I gave her directions and asked what she was doing, but the only answer I got was to sit tight and wait for her to come and get me. I didn't have the heart to make up an excuse.

When she buzzed outside, I told her I'd meet her at the front gate. Nothing was necessarily incriminating in my apartment, but I hadn't swept through it like I normally would. Before I walked out, I crumbled up Victoria's note and threw it in the trash.

Bella was waiting on the sidewalk and I had to do a double take when I saw her. She was wearing those denim shorts again, the ones that made me want to pin her against a wall. But it wasn't that that made me stop walking. She was wearing this very small red t-shirt with _Angels_ printed across the front, a halo around the point of the _A_. She was taking me to a baseball game.

_Fuck!_ Fuck the money and the fake fucking charity. Fuck Victoria and James and Tanya whoever else was in on this. And most of all, fuck me and my whole miserable existence. I was going to hell for what I was doing to Bella.

She grinned and gave me a funny look. "Did my shirt give it away?"

_Fuck_. I didn't want to be Anthony today.

I crossed the couple of yards still between us and pulled her into my arms, lifting her feet off the ground. She giggled and it sounded like music. "Hey baby," I murmured. I set her back down and kissed her before she regained her balance just so I'd feel her fingers tighten around the back of my neck.

"Surprise," she breathed, pulling back.

I leaned in and kissed her one more time.

…

Bella liked to drive with the windows rolled down. She pulled her hair back, but the wind whipped stray pieces around her face anyway and she didn't care.

We were playing a game because of the monotony of the 5 freeway – one of us would quote a movie, the other had two tries to get it right. So far, I was losing pathetically.

"'The numbers all go to eleven'…no? That's an easy one!" She glanced at me with a smile before refocusing on the road.

"It is not." I was drawing a blank and she'd already given me three tries. "Alright, I give up."

"You know…I'm beginning to think you just like losing." She bit the inside of her bottom lip and then touched the spot under her ear. "Here," she said quietly, her cheeks flushing.

I pulled the shoulder strap of my seat belt off and leaned over the center console, until my mouth just brushed the soft skin of her neck. "Here?" I whispered.

She nodded and I thought I heard her swallow, but I could have been mistaken.

I kissed her, reveling in the sweet taste and smell. So far, I'd done this to her cheek, her lips, the inside of her wrist, and the backs of both hands. When I pulled away I said, "Losing does have its perks."

Bella cleared her throat. "We're here."

She navigated deftly off the freeway and to the stadium parking lot, where we were guided to a space midway back.

On our way up to the gate, she fixed her hair, smoothing it back unnecessarily. "Um, so, there are fireworks tonight and…did I tell you that already? Anyway, I kind of had to get these tickets last minute and the fireworks nights are really popular…So, I hope you don't mind the nosebleed section," she scrunched up her nose a little.

I put my arm over her shoulder and said I didn't care.

I let Bella lead because she seemed to know what she was doing. She went from will call and then straight through, past the stairs that would take us to the upper decks. We went through a large cinderblock hallway and I thought she was looking for a bathroom or something, but she walked right by them.

"Bella, I think -,"

"Oh, I know, but this way is faster. I came to a game with my friends a while back; Emmett made us go this way."

We kept going and then I could see the field and we were really low, like really freaking close to home plate. "Bella," I was going to tell her that we'd definitely gone the wrong way when she stopped to talk to an usher. I kept an arm around her, daring him to tease her for the lapse in directional sense.

He looked at our tickets. "Right this way." He led us down and then down further until we were eight rows up from the field. "You're in three and four and you have full access to the lounge which is right back there," he pointed to a long suite behind us.

Bella said thanks and then when the usher left she just _beamed_ at me. "Sorry, it was the best I could do at the last minute." She didn't look very apologetic, in fact, she looked pretty proud of herself.

After a second, I realized she was sitting down and I was still standing at the head of the row. I moved in and sat heavily, running a hand through my hair. _Get it together_.

When I looked up, she seemed worried. "Are you alright?"

I blinked at her, stupidly. "…Our seats are padded."

"Did I…I mean, if you don't want to sit here -,"

I did the only thing I could think of, I kissed her.

She pulled back first, eyes bright. "So, you like it?"

"A lot, I can't even remember the last time I went to a game." That was a lie. The last game I went to was almost ten years ago for my eighteenth birthday. My parents took me and I'd hidden a flask in my back pocket to make it through the day. The White Sox won, 6 – 3; they were having a really good season that year.

Bella settled against my shoulder for most of the game. We never made it back to the lounge, but we had a waiter who was a little too goddamn attentive for my liking. I would have said something, or broken his face, but Bella was really happy and I didn't want to ruin it. When he came by for the third time in the space on an inning, I leaned over and buried my face in Bella's neck. I kissed that spot below her ear she seemed to like.

"Uh, are you sure I can't get you anything else, miss?" The waiter asked, discomfort obvious.

_That's right, she's mine_.

When she didn't respond, I pulled back just far enough to speak. "I think he's talking to you." I straightened up, my arm going over her seat back.

Bella glanced up at him, surprised. "What? No, nothing, thanks."

The Angels won that night, 6 – 4, and we missed the second half of the fireworks because I couldn't keep my hands to myself. I'd pegged Bella for someone who shied away from big public displays of affection, but after I pulled her back into my chest, she didn't mind anymore.

She was quiet on the drive back while I looked out the windshield and attempted to think of nothing, which was impossible. She had given me the perfect day and she had absolutely no idea. When we finally got off the freeway, I reached over and took her hand because I had so much I wanted to say, but nothing would actually come out of my mouth.

_Thank you._

_ I'm sorry._

_ I want to run like hell from you, but I can't. And if I did, it wouldn't matter at this point. If they want you, they'll get you whether I'm here or not._

It was very late when we parked near Bella's apartment, but when she invited me up I followed.

She turned in the entryway and kissed me before I'd gotten all the way inside. I gripped her hips because I couldn't help myself and let my back fall against the door, my weight pushing it shut. I felt the rise and fall of her chest and some part of my mind said that I could have her right now if I wanted. And I did.

I switched our positions and leaned into her body. We still hadn't made it two feet into her apartment, so I picked her up and her legs came around me and I finally got to press against her the way I wanted to. It was so good. It was _too_ good.

_You can't do this to her_.

Bella grazed her teeth on my earlobe and the errant thought – _where did this sexual confidence come from?_ – passed through my head.

"Bedroom," she whispered.

I stepped back and readjusted her higher up my waist so I could kiss her and walk at the same time. In her room, I laid her down and wrapped my hands around the backs of her knees. She was ticklish there, but I also knew how much she liked it.

_She's going to find out some day_ _and then she'll hate you_.

I slid my hands down her calves to her shoes, which I pulled off, running my fingers under her feet to make her laugh. Instead, she just squirmed and made a small sound on an exhale that went to straight to my dick.

Bella sat up and tugged on the hem of my shirt, which she helped me remove. When it was gone, I moved us both back on the bed. I wanted to taste her everywhere and I wanted to take my time. _Me_, not Anthony. Or maybe I was wrong, maybe I didn't know who I was.

I pushed her shirt up, and then up further. I kissed along her ribs and felt the bones underneath; I forgot sometimes that Bella was very small. When I switched to the other side, I felt her back arch as she pulled her shirt up over her head. Her skin was soft fucking everywhere.

_She'll never forgive you_. _You're going to humiliate her_. _You're going to ruin her_.

Her fingers went into my hair again and I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my face against her. _Get it together_.

I ran my nose along the swell of her breast and kissed her collarbone. One of my hands stretched between us and unbuttoned her shorts, but I couldn't bring myself to unzip them.

_I can't_.

I got up fast and took a step back, breathing hard. It wasn't ever supposed to be this way. _Damn it_, I had to get the hell away from here.

I sputtered out an apology and grabbed my shirt.

"Anthony, what -,"

"I've got to go, I can't – I've got to go."

Bella stood up. Her hair was a mess and she was barely dressed, but she looked beautiful enough that I almost changed my mind. "What's the matter?" She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to cover herself.

"Nothing, I just need to go, I'm sorry, I have someplace – I have to go." I backed up, my shirt still in my hand.

When I got to the hallway, I heard her following, calling to me. I made it to the front door before I turned around.

"What's wrong?" She looked confused before, but now she was starting to look hurt too. "Talk to me, Anthony."

I wanted to scream. My name isn't _fucking_ Anthony, that's what's wrong. Instead, I walked out and left her standing there alone.

* * *

Author's Note: Hi :) There are a couple of new pictures of Angels Stadium and a new song on my playlist for this chapter; they're on my homepage if you're interested.

Also, writing about the fake charity made me ill. So, I'm urging you to bid or join the team of your favorite author(s) for the upcoming Fandom Gives Back auction. The proceeds go to Alex's Lemonade Stand, which is very much real.

Thank you to my pre-readers, jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan and SydneyAlice, and thanks to you all as always, you guys make my day.


	14. Thirteen: Keystrokes

Thirteen: Keystrokes

He left. He just…walked out. He had no way to get home and he wasn't even wearing a shirt. I thought that I should be hurt, more so than I already was, or angry. But standing there what I really felt was overwhelming confusion.

I stood, staring at the door, for I'm not sure how long while I waited for him to come back and tell me he was kidding. I would have said that it was a really bad joke and that I didn't get it and then he would have apologized. But he never did come back and after a while I started getting cold so I went back to my room and kicked off my shorts before crawling under my comforter.

What _was_ that? I flipped over onto my stomach while my mind started playing catch-up with the whole evening.

Anthony had seemed so happy at the game. He cheered when our team scored and laughed, good naturedly, when I got mustard on my shirt. I was always touching him or he was touching me and we kissed between innings without really caring who was around. He bought a bag of peanuts and threw all the shells in the trash instead of at our feet, we shared a soda, and I thought that things didn't get much better than this.

And then the whole thing just fell apart. It crossed my mind that maybe I pushed too hard. After all, I jumped him as soon as we got in the door. I just couldn't help it; it was like some other part of my brain took over. I didn't really think about whether or not it was a good idea, I just wanted it and it felt right. So, maybe that part was my mistake. But, even so, why leave like that? It was like he'd gotten some emergency phone call that I wasn't aware of.

I rolled over to check the time; it was after one o'clock. I unfastened my bra because it was getting uncomfortable to try and sleep in and then tossed it on the floor. _No one's here to see me anyway_, I thought cynically.

I tried to quiet my mind, but it wouldn't stop pausing on his face when he got up. There wasn't really a good word to describe it – defeated, frantic, mad? None of those fit quite right. And I only caught a glimpse of it because he left so fast.

What the hell had I done wrong?

Our relationship had seemed to be moving in that direction. We were exclusive, we were close, we had fun…

I don't know when I fell asleep, but when I did, I dreamed of Anthony's expression and how he'd wanted to get away from me so badly.

…

After a fitful night of sleep, I woke up angry and my thoughts picked up right where they'd left off. _What had I done wrong? I hadn't done anything wrong_. I wasn't the one that ran away half dressed like the house was on fire.

I hadn't gotten a call or even a text message so as my morning went on, my temper flared even more and I had to force myself not to think too much. I turned my phone off so I would stop checking it and tried to pay attention to my class lecture.

By the time I was supposed to meet Kate for lunch, my mood had changed again. Being angry wasn't going to help anything because in the end he still left. It occurred to me to just call him myself, but it didn't seem right. _He was in the wrong; let him worry about explaining it to me_. That belief, flimsy as it was, was enough to keep my phone out of my hands.

Kate and I met in the quad as usual and then decided on a little pizza place nearby for lunch. It made me think about Anthony and that just didn't seem healthy.

It was hot out and the restaurant had a broken air conditioner, so we sat out front on the covered patio. It smelled like gardenias and spicy marinara sauce.

"So, I wanted to explain about the other day." She took a prolonged sip of her iced tea and I wondered if she was nervous. "I probably came on a little strong; I do that sometimes…,"

I just shrugged. "It's fine." A part of me was curious as to why she seemed not to like Anthony, but another part of me didn't because then that meant I'd have to think about him.

She ignored me and sort of smiled. "Garrett says I should become a cop with all the interrogating I do." Before she could keep going, our pizza arrived. She didn't say anything more until our slices were properly divvied up and parmesan-ed.

"I had this boyfriend when I first started here; his name was David. He approached me, which I wasn't really used to… Anyway, he was perfect." Her eyes took on this look of someone not entirely present, like she was very deep in her memory. "I remember he said right away that he wanted us to be like official or steady, whatever. It was crazy, I only came here from the valley, but I still didn't know anyone and here this guy was. And he wanted _me_.

"He showed up after my classes to take me out every day – I never wondered how he knew when they let out, he made these really sweet gestures, and he was protective – not in a possessive way, in a good way I thought." She took a bite of her pizza; mine had been abandoned while I figured out where she was going with everything. I sipped from my soda as she continued.

"There were things I didn't know about him," she started in a new vein of thought. "Like, I'd never been inside his apartment, I didn't know what he did for a living or where he was from, he said his parents died and that he didn't have any family, but I just pushed it aside. I figured he had skeletons, who doesn't?" She paused for a minute and looked at my still full plate so I took a large bite to appease her. While I chewed, a thought occurred to me, the same thought that refused to go away. _Anthony's parents_…,

"So, this one day we were in my car together and I got into a fender bender, nothing major at all. But David just…flipped out. When the police came they had to physically pull him off the other guy. After that, I decided that we should cool it for a little bit – we really had just jumped into a relationship right away. When I told him that, things got – bad."

I shook my head, finally catching up to where she was going. "Anthony's not like that at all, he would never…,"

"Just hear me out, ok?" I saw that look of concern I was becoming familiar with. "Alright, so I'll spare you the details, but after a few weeks Garrett convinced me to get a restraining order."

"Garrett?"

"Yeah," she smiled a little. "I met him in one of my classes; he's the one that introduced me to Irina and Laurent. Anyway, usually he was around. Except this one time - I had a night class and I was trying to find my car keys, which is like, personal safety 101 – always have your keys out and ready."

"_You're_ the girl from -," I snapped my mouth shut. She was the reason we had cameras in all the parking lots.

"So you've heard this story then," she gave me a half hearted smile.

"I'm sorry," I said automatically, but she just shook her head. "That's…awful," I frowned, unable to come up with something better to say.

"Yeah," she sighed. "But David's in jail now so…," she looked uncomfortable and she was fiddling with her napkin so I reached out and covered her hand until it stilled. "I'm worried about you," she said, suddenly.

I pulled my hand back. "Why? Anthony isn't violent, he's…a good man," I forced out.

"I've learned a lot in this last year and I trust my instincts now -,"

"No, Kate, you don't understand, Anthony really isn't -,"

"Bella, I saw something the day of your accident."

Her words made something inside me freeze. I wanted to cover my ears.

"I'd seen Anthony standing around while I was out there waiting for Garrett, he was definitely waiting for something, I thought maybe his ride or a friend or whatever. I noticed him because he looked anxious as hell."

I didn't want to listen anymore.

"The driver - I don't think it was just some idiot kid, Bella. I think that's who Anthony was waiting for."

"Well, you're wrong," I said stubbornly. "It was an accident, Anthony saved me. If he knew the driver…that just…doesn't make any sense."

"I know it sounds crazy, but…Ok, I can't be sure here, but I swear I saw the guy nod at him right before. It all happened really fast…," she trailed off. "I'm sorry, but I just know something isn't right about the whole thing."

In retrospect, I wasn't entirely angry at her. I was frustrated because I had questions of my own and some of the things Kate said hit a little bit close, plus my complete bewilderment over Anthony's quick retreat the night before. Unfortunately, Kate got the brunt of it.

"So, that's your evidence – _you just know?_ This is insane. You don't even know him, you never even stick around long enough to say hello -,"

"I'm just saying you need to open your eyes, Bella. What do you know about him?"

"I know plenty. Anthony isn't David."

"Tell me you don't have questions. Tell me there's never been anything strange or something you've just made yourself ignore." Kate crossed her arms, confident in her quick assessment.

I couldn't tell her anything, so instead I stood up, pulling my wallet out of my bag. I threw some cash down on the table. "I think we're done here."

"Bella wait," she grabbed the strap of my backpack before I could leave. "You think I don't know anything, but I see you two together. He's always there, isn't he?"

I could barely look her in the eye.

"I've been doing some -,"

"Stay out of it, Kate." Instead of letting her finish, I yanked my bag onto my shoulder and walked away.

…

By the time I got home, I was a wreck. I wanted so badly to say I was sorry and that even if I didn't believe her, I shouldn't have just left like that. But I didn't have her number and I didn't know anyone that might. I resigned myself to feeling guilty until I could see her again on Monday.

I was hoping to distract myself from everything that afternoon by getting some schoolwork done, but after writing and deleting the same paragraph three times I gave up.

I couldn't get Kate's words out of my head. _Tell me you don't have questions_.

I did have questions, little ones that were piling up into the corner where I'd swept them. What did his apartment look like? Did he have any friends here? Where was he from? Did he have a job? And whatever it was that I couldn't figure out about his father. It was reasonable though that I might not have these answers yet, we'd been together for barely a month. And was knowing his hometown really that important?

Anthony was good to me. He was sweet and funny and generous and he'd been nothing but supportive since I told him about the money. Sure, there were things I wondered about, but I wasn't entitled to have every question answered after a month of dating, right?

Getting up from my desk, I picked up my laptop to settle in on the couch where it was softer. I had about an hour to kill so I opened up my internet browser and read through a random series of articles. There was a double homicide in Seattle and a protest rally that resulted in the arrest of seven people in Los Angeles. _This is why I never pay attention to the news_.

I tapped my fingers on the keyboard. The cursor blinked silently in the address bar. I tapped my fingers on the keyboard some more.

And then I typed into my search bar: _A..n..t..h..o_… I got all the way to the second _n_ before I backspaced it all out. _I have no right to do this_.

Sure, there were things I wondered about; maybe I had more questions than a normal person. I was a cop's daughter, after all. Insatiable curiosity and I were kind of a package deal.

_Alright_, I thought, _what does this come down to? _I could deal with skeletons and with not knowing every piece of his history right away. I already knew quite a bit. _So why is this still bothering you then?_

Because what it came down to was – is he lying about something? I sat back against the couch cushions with a huff and then reached forward again to grab my pen and pad from the floor space by my feet. And then I did what I always did, I made a list:

1. _The way we met…_

It was dramatic, but maybe he really was just a Good Samaritan. I tabled what Kate said for the time being.

2. _His contacts_

I scratched that out as soon as I wrote it. That was dumb.

3. _Something about his father…or both his parents_

That thought was always there, I wrote it down because I couldn't get it out of my head.

4. _That girl from the pier_

She'd been so sure his name was Edward Cullen. I only remembered it now because of the way Anthony had stalked off.

5. _The way he just walked out…_

I didn't know what to make of that.

6. _Maybe I'm screwed up and I can't accept a good thing when it's staring me in the face_

I tore the paper out and crumbled it up; that hadn't helped at all. I stared at my computer screen some more, tapping on the keys.

A..n..t..h..o..n..y..M..a..s..e… My phone rang and I jumped. I grabbed it quickly; glad to be startled out of my bubble of paranoia.

"Bells? Hey, it's Emmett."

"What's up?" I stared at my nearly finished search query.

"Rose's really sick today so I don't think we're doing dinner tonight."

"Is she alright? I mean, it's not bad or anything is it?"

"No, it's…," he stopped talking and I heard something that sounded like their sliding door opening and closing. "So, you know she goes to group and stuff, right? The reason for that – she used to be engaged and the guy's in jail now. Don't tell her I told you, alright?"

"Of course not," suddenly, my problems didn't seem so bad anymore.

"His parole is coming up so she had to go testify about some stuff today. So, yeah…it was, you know, hard for her."

"Oh," I said lamely. I had no idea what happened to her, but I felt the stinging of tears in my eyes anyway. "Well, yeah, next week or something then. Tell her…tell her I'm here and that I hope she feels better soon."

After I said goodbye, I stared at my computer screen again. This was stupid. Here I was making up things when Rosalie was dealing with something very real and very painful.

My cursor blinked at me.

I don't know how long I sat like that, but after a while there was a knock on my door. I got up to answer, anxious because I knew who it was.

"Anthony." I held the door half open.

He looked bedraggled and exhausted. I would have thought he hadn't been home at all if not for the change in clothes. "Can I come in?"

He stepped in when I opened the door all the way and then just stood there, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet.

"Um, sit down…if you want." At the last second, I remembered that my search was still up on my laptop screen. I moved around him, shutting the lid a little harder than necessary.

Anthony followed, keeping space in between us. He cleared his throat and I felt my nerves rattle. "So, about yesterday – I'm really sorry. I don't really…I don't know…I don't have a good reason for you. I guess I just freaked out, it's – it's barely been a month, you know? This is just…a lot."

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped. "We're moving too fast? Isn't the girl supposed to say that?" It didn't sound as nice as it did in my head. "I mean, sorry, that just wasn't what I was expecting."

"Uh, yeah, I don't know…," he put his hand in his hair and then dropped it in his lap. "I'm really sorry; I shouldn't have taken off, that was just…really wrong."

"Yeah, it was." I wanted to stay angry at him, but I could feel some of my indignation cooling off. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He sighed. "It's what I do, I guess. Take off, I mean. It's not an excuse, it's just the way I've always been…, but I like you, a _lot_. I don't want to fuck it up by doing something stupid like that…unless I already have…,"

He was staring down at his hands, so I reached over and nudged him with my elbow. "You haven't."

"No?"

I scooted closer, but not close enough that I was touching him. We weren't entirely in the clear yet. "No, unless you run away again."

He finally looked at me. "I won't, I promise."

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to my pre-readers - jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan, and SydneyAlice, and thank you readers; without you I'd have a lot less fun doing this.

Quick FYI, I'm going on vacation tomorrow so there won't be an update until the 15th. In the meantime, I have a recommendation:

Belladonna by CandyTwi; it's an AU with Bella as a succubus with no conscience whatsoever (not to mention an almost funny inability to relate to humans) until she meets you-know-who. It's really creative and I've been completely intrigued since I came across it; the story is in my favorites if you want to check it out.

See you in a couple weeks!


	15. Fourteen: Funeral for a Friend

Fourteen: Funeral for a Friend

St. Catherine of Alexandria was a large stone church that anchored the corner of the street. There was a school of the same name nearby and a Starbucks that you could see from the front steps. Bella had never been there before, but she said when it was sunny the stained glass windows would look amazing. It wasn't sunny though, it was pouring.

Bella held onto my hand for dear life as we walked inside. It was dim in there and I thought for a second I'd be struck dead when I crossed the threshold. I wanted pretty fucking badly to say no when she asked me to go with her, but I promised I wouldn't abandon her again and I meant it. We found a seat about a dozen pews from the front, behind the family. Bella pulled a tissue out of her purse and crumpled it in her hand. I wanted to hurt everyone that had ever made her cry, but in this case it was me and I didn't know what to do about that. A tear slipped over her cheekbone and I caught it on my thumb.

The processional was coming to an end, but that awful hymn I remembered from my childhood was being sung over and over while everyone settled.

_If you pass through raging waters  
in the sea, you shall not drown.  
If you walk amidst the burning flames,  
you shall not be harmed._

_If you stand before the pow'r of hell  
and death is at your side,  
know that I am with you, through it all._

I hated that motherfucking song.

…

I didn't know where I was going that night after the baseball game, I didn't even realize my shirt was still in my hand until I got to the street corner and caught someone staring. I pulled it on and then turned left toward my place instead of taking a right to go to Anthony's. The direction I really wanted to go was behind me.

Before I got too far away, I debated going back. I didn't know what the hell I could tell her though…_gotcha?_ Bella would hate me either way.

I rented my apartment on a month to month basis because I never knew when I'd have to leave. The last place I'd had for twenty five days, the one before that lasted me six months. So far I'd lived in this one for two.

It didn't look anything like my Anthony apartment. Here I kept my books in one cardboard box next to my bed; I had a short lamp on the floor next to that. I had no bed frame, but I did have a couch. That was about it.

This_ is what you do this for?_

It wasn't worth it anymore. I was out. Out of the game, out of Bella's life, out of everything. I wouldn't care what happened to her, if she was naïve enough to let someone else into her life the way she'd let me, then she deserved what was coming to her.

…

Bella's hands were shaking. She held them in her lap over the pieces of shredded tissue that were sticking to her dress, white on black. It was going to stick like lint so I grabbed one of her hands to make her stop, plus I just couldn't watch her do it anymore.

The priest was starting the opening prayer, so we stood up and the remnants of the tissue fell from her lap. When she grabbed for it, she was distracted by mess on the front of her dress. She wiped at it frantically with her free hand while the priest spewed some crap about there being no more pain. I looked at Bella and called bullshit on that one.

When she saw that her attempts were useless, she leaned into my side, her eyes on the varnished pew in front of us. She hadn't looked up once since we'd sat down.

We all sat again after the priest was done and I put my arm around Bella's shoulders. I knew how this mass was going to work – the eulogies were next.

I listened to every word and that wasn't nearly enough. I pulled a tissue out of Bella's purse and watched her try in vain to clean herself up and that wasn't enough either. I burned that look she had into my brain, when she glanced at me in thanks. It was nothing to her; she was just acknowledging that I was trying to help.

Don't you know this is all my fault? I wanted to yell it at her. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me, none of these people would be. I wanted to shake her. Can't you see me for what I really am? I am the worst thing.

There were two speakers, a man and a woman. Bella cried and I wanted to fucking shoot myself.

There was another reading that I didn't hear, 1 Corinthians something.

…

It was a bad apology, when I came back to Bella's Friday night. But I spent the better part of that last twenty four hours deciding if I was even going to come back at all, let alone what I would say when I got there.

I didn't want to go and for a while I convinced myself that I didn't care what happened to her. But that was so far from the truth it was almost funny.

When the fuck had this happened to me? I was the best and Bella wasn't my first mark. I had spent the last ten years cheating, lying, and stealing, but never this. Never this…whatever I was doing with her.

When she answered the door, I took one look at her face and I wanted to tell her everything. The accident that wasn't, the money, all the goddamn lying, the guilt… And somewhere in there I sat down and spit out these half truths when I knew she deserved more. I wanted to beg her to see, but a mind as kind as hers would never make the leap to what I really was; she believed the good in people, which included me.

I asked her if it was too late and she told me it wasn't, if I didn't run away again. She had this look on her face – tough and hurt and forgiving and hopeful. Then I just knew…

_Fuck, I'm in love with her_.

And then I promised I'd never leave her again.

…

Everyone sang some more. I didn't get it, even at a funeral it was sit down, kneel, stand up, sing and kneel again.

There was another reading; this one was from 1 John, chapter three. I forgot which verse.

…

Bella hadn't actually said the words, but she'd forgiven me. I wasn't so hopeful as to believe anyone else would ever forgive me so quickly. I had done much worse and deserved it much less.

We spent most of the weekend together and even if she had ordered me out, I probably would have passed the time standing outside her building. I went home Friday night to sleep and then again on Saturday. In between sleep was Bella. I wanted her to know about me now, but that was impossible, so instead I decided to learn about her.

She had her first real boyfriend at seventeen, but he was forcibly removed from her side by her father when he caught the boy trying to feel up his unwilling daughter.

She moved back in with her dad after college with the excuse that she wanted to be nearby, but truthfully she didn't know what to do next.

Now she was a small fish in a big pond. And she was caught in my fucking net. But I was going to fix that.

…

Bella had stopped crying and her hands had stopped shaking. She wasn't Catholic, I don't think she was any religion in particular, but I got the feeling she was soothed by the mass. The priest did another reading, the Beatitudes. Then he spoke for a while and Bella managed to look up for a split second before she tensed and looked back down. She looked guilty and I knew why. It was stupid, but she held onto it like if she could go back and change things, none of this would have happened.

Baby, I wanted to tell her, this has been coming since the day I met you.

…

I was going to tell my employer that I quit. And in my righteousness I was going to say that if he didn't like it he could go fuck himself. There was a lot of money to be had, let him find it somewhere else.

So, after spending all day Saturday with Bella, Sunday morning I got up early, showered, and put on my own clothes. I hadn't been back to the Anthony apartment since the day of the baseball game.

I took my own car and drove north for about twenty minutes, which gave me too much time to think and question and doubt. What if he wouldn't let me go? And worse, what if he wouldn't let Bella go? Twenty minutes was too long, but not long enough to formulate any answers.

I pulled into a metered space in a stretch of similar used spaces. Outside, the ocean kicked a breeze up the coast and I could smell the wet and the salt. I walked up the block, past stores that sold postcards and refrigerator magnets, past coffee shops and two restaurants. I turned left at the corner and walked up the incline of the uneven streets.

The houses here were progressively larger the higher you went. The ones lowest to the ground were originals, cottages with Cape Cod windows and ivy that had all but taken over. A tangled vine of bougainvillea on a fence caught my shirt sleeve, but didn't tear it. I liked these houses and the owners that refused to sell. I walked further toward what I was becoming sure would be my execution.

Several blocks up was an alien planet. These houses tended toward the experimental, with sharp angles and severely manicured lawns, not that you could see much of the grounds – they were protected by massive gates. My employer lived here at the top of the hill. His home had an unobstructed view of the cove, but for all its space I'd never liked it. To me, it was just a poorly executed Frank Lloyd Wright imitation.

When I made it to the gate, I hit the button to be buzzed in. From the outside, it was impossible to ever tell whether anyone was home. Regardless, the property was immaculate, painfully so. I buzzed them again.

I'd been to this home on several occasions when I was called upon and before every job. It was where he tested me. Who are you? Who's the target? I remembered a time when I craved that interest, such as it was.

I'd never seen much of the house, only the few rooms on the first floor and the garage because my employer couldn't help but show off his collections - funeral masks, original art, wine, and cars, other things that cost money. I buzzed once more, knowing that it was useless. No one was there, so much for plans.

I slid my hands over the wrought iron bars and wondered if they were keeping me out or keeping me in.

I would wait, I decided. He had to come home some time. So, instead of walking back down the hill, I turned around to lean back on the gate…and it moved.

_What the fuck?_

The gate was tall, it opened from the middle when you punched in a code or someone let you in from inside the house. But no one had let me in; I would have heard the gate unlatch. I pushed it with two fingers, wary that my employer had security watching me. I never saw them, but I knew they were around. It creaked and opened a few inches, so I pushed again, and this time it swung far enough that I could fit through.

I looked around, but saw no dogs or whatever measures my employer used so I moved up the walkway to the front door and knocked, waited, knocked again. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I felt something like ice over my skin.

I had no key to this place, of course, but it had a lot of windows. So I stepped away to the first set off to the left, inside I would see the formal living area and a part of the foyer. This was where I spent most of my time and I knew it all by heart. The couches were black and the design was minimalist. There was no color except a vivid Kandinsky painting over the mantle.

_The orange expands and the green contracts_, he'd once told me. _It's all movement, can you see?_

There were only white walls and endless floor space. No couches, no table, and no Kandinsky. My heart pumped furiously and I moved to the next set of windows, from these there should be a kitchen with appliances that always looked brand new. Except there wasn't. The refrigerator was still there, but the counters were clear.

I rushed around the corner to the next set, a dining room that wasn't there. The next, a game room that was nothing but an empty square. I could feel the sweat on my forehead as I gripped the sill on yet another set of windows, I squeezed my eyes shut. There would be a library in here, I'd seen it once. There were built in bookshelves that spanned the walls and went up to the ceiling, there was a desk at one end with a chair on either side. It would be there, it had to be there.

The shelves were still there, but now they were just long empty indents in the wall. The desk was gone, the chairs were gone. I slammed my fisted hand against the glass which gave a muted rattle. I did it again, harder this time.

To be absolutely sure, I went around the rest of the house. Room after room, empty, empty, empty…

Of course, I berated myself. Of course he didn't really live here. Did I think I was important enough to be granted a visit to his real home? Yes, I'd thought so.

_It's all movement, can you see?_

...

They were singing another song. It was like all the others except now people were lining up in the center aisle for Communion. Bella and I stayed put. She slipped her arm through mine, but otherwise stayed unnervingly still. I think it was the only way she knew how to hold herself together.

Her used tissues were crumpled and stuffed in her tiny purse. It was only big enough for that and her keys, though I hadn't let her drive. I'd used the Anthony car, which was the one she would recognize.

After everyone sat down, the priest said another prayer, clearly something to wrap everything up. I could hear Bella breathing; I started counting its rhythm, four on the inhale and four on the exhale. I thought she must be counting too.

There was another song and then the coffin was carried out. The family followed behind and my mind went to another time and another coffin, but Bella squeezed my hand and brought me back. Our row was emptying out. I held her around the waist, but I couldn't say who was supporting who.

We walked outside into the rain and I ushered her quickly to the car. Inside, I turned the volume to barely audible on the radio, low enough to hear the windshield wipers working ineffectively on the downpour. The bright orange "FUNERAL" slip was on the dash. It was there for the cops who would direct us through traffic; it kept us all together. I turned my lights on and crept out into the line of mourners. I'm sorry, I wanted to say.

The service at the cemetery was short. Bella and I stood together under an umbrella someone had passed us. The priest spoke some more and the coffin was right fucking there and I counted Bella's breaths to keep calm.

I was just…so fucking sorry.

…

After finding my employer's home empty, I didn't go back to Bella's until late. She made dinner and I tried to help and for a while I lived in her world where I really was her boyfriend.

That night I had the nightmare about Bella being pulled into the void again. I woke up at two in the morning knowing I shouldn't have left her alone. My employer could pull her out of her life as easily as he pulled himself out of his.

My mind worked quickly, but in circles. Why had this happened? Why was he gone? What had I done wrong? And where was he now? Would he come after Bella?

No, he couldn't know anything. The last time we spoke he told me to do my job and that our bases were covered. I hadn't given anything away; I knew how to talk to him by now. Perhaps he'd simply moved.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Monday morning found me parked at Bella's campus. The lot was already nearly full and I drove around for a while, looking for her small blue Audi, but it wasn't there. I checked the time and saw that it was far past when she usually got here. In fact, she was late for class. Bella was never late.

I went through each row, each car before moving to the next lot, and then the next. After that I came back to her normal one. She wasn't anywhere.

I should never have left her; I should have slept there, or slept in my car. I hit my steering wheel; hit it again, and then once more. I pulled my hands up and tugged on my hair. _Get it together_.

Ok, her apartment, I needed to check her apartment. I fucking flew there.

"She's fine, she's fine, she's fine," I mumbled, jogging to the gate. Lucky for me, someone was leaving and they held the gate for me. I took the stairs two at a time, making promises to a God I didn't believe in that I'd take better care of her, I'd never leave her alone again, I'd find a way to fix this.

I knocked on her door too hard. I counted to three and then raised my hand to knock again, but stopped when the door swung open.

Bella's eyes were swollen and red; I could see the salt from her tears dried on her face. She had some tissue in her hand, it looked like she'd hastily tried to clean herself up, but she wasn't hiding anything. She looked up at me, one arm wrapped around her middle, and then she broke. I stepped inside and pressed her to me. I held the back of her head while she sobbed.

"Shh," I said into her hair. I kissed where I could reach and felt her hands gripping the front of my shirt. "You're alright." It was inadequate, but I had to say something.

She mumbled into my chest.

"What happened, baby?" In my head, I went through how fast I could get out of there and find whoever had done this to her.

She could barely get it out, her voice was shaking and muffled, but I heard it clearly enough. "_Kate's dead_."

* * *

Author's Note: Hi everyone, I'm back :) Thanks to my pre-readers, jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan, and SydneyAlice; thanks to you all as well. I thought about this chapter so much while I was away.

Anyway, I'll be posting a picture of the employer's house on my homepage soon, if you're interested in checking it out. And if you've asked questions and I haven't gotten back to you it's because I'm still very slowly going through everything I missed while I was gone. I'll get to you, I promise, unless your question is 'what happens next?' :)


	16. Fifteen: Keystrokes Redux

Fifteen: Keystrokes Redux

By Monday morning, I was really nervous about apologizing to Kate. I had worked it up in my head that she would stew over my tantrum to the point where she wouldn't want to see me anymore. Or that I would start talking and then say something stupid. I hadn't ever been very good at emoting. I felt everything; I just didn't really know how to talk about it. It was partially the result of growing up around so many males, and partially (or mostly) just the way I was.

I got to campus earlier than normal and found a decent parking spot. There wasn't anything I needed to be early for, so I took my time getting my stuff together and contemplated buying a bagel, but I didn't have quite enough time for that.

It's funny how you can always remember the most pointless minutiae around the most serious moments in your life. When Charlie told me Renee had passed away, I noticed that the cowlick in his hair made him look like a little boy. He was wearing a blue and green flannel shirt and his jeans were flecked with white paint. To this day, I can't remember exactly how he told me, but I remember exactly how he looked.

Garrett was here, I realized after zipping up my backpack. He was with two men in suits and he looked angry. Loose strands of his hair were tucked behind his ears and his arms were crossed over his chest. I didn't recognize the other two, but the one facing me wore a dark blue tie that was a little crooked. They looked like detectives, or FBI agents, or something. I got out of the car, curiosity overcoming common sense.

The group was a few yards away, but I could hear Garrett's voice rising. It had an edge I'd never heard before. "You pulled me out of class, so tell me what's going on." He demanded. A few people were starting to glance over.

I could barely hear the men over the chatter of passersby. I heard them say Kate's name and then the phrase "really prefer it if you" something.

"I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me what's happening. Where's Kate?" His head automatically turned toward the building her class was in.

I was starting to feel sick. I didn't want to be there, eavesdropping in the background, but my feet stayed rooted. My heart pounded and I didn't know why. I realized belatedly that I'd left all my stuff in the car, but I didn't care.

Garrett looked held together by a very thin thread. "Where's Kate?"

The man with the blue tie said something; he spoke so softly I couldn't catch any of it.

Garrett's mouth twitched like he thought the man was joking. "What?" He asked.

I stepped forward, stuck in a limbo of not really knowing what was going on, and conversely, of knowing exactly what they'd just said to him. I may not remember everything from that morning, but I'll never forget Garrett's face when he realized they were telling him the truth.

I stepped forward again, my vision already clouding. "Garrett?" There wasn't anything I could say to him, but I couldn't stand by and watch anymore.

"Excuse me, miss, you're going to have to move along." The man with the tie said that and something else I didn't hear because I couldn't tear my focus away.

"I know him," I argued. I didn't, not really anyway, but that didn't matter. "Garrett," I tried to move closer and that's when he finally noticed me.

He was too pale, grey almost. His eyes flickered in my direction, but he didn't move. After a second, he shook his head. The man that wasn't blocking me took him by the elbow and led him to a car that was parked in a fire lane. Garrett sat in the back, completely gone.

"What happened to Kate?" I felt my throat closing up over her name. "She's my friend."

"I'm very sorry."

…

I wasn't supposed to find out that way, but now they knew I was her friend and that I'd seen her a few hours before…

The police wanted to talk to me.

"This isn't happening," I remember saying.

The detective, he was one after all, offered to drive me home, but I said no. He told me to come in to the station and that it might be a good idea if I had someone that would wait for me. He said a lot of things that I didn't listen to. I wanted to go home, I wanted to get under the covers and go back to sleep and then start over again.

…

I went to the police station by myself. Anthony said he would go with me, but something about his offer seemed contrived so I let him off the hook.

I stuck tissue in my pocket though I was forcing myself to be somewhere other than this place. It was noisy and smelled like burning coffee. I wanted to be in bed.

"We had lunch together on Friday," I told them. From the years with my dad, I knew how some of this worked so I focused on the steps. Right now, they were establishing a timeline. "That was at twelve, it was…it went for less than an hour, I think." I swallowed hard.

"Short lunch," the detective commented.

I nodded, my jaw tight. Neither man spoke and I knew why, but it still worked on me. "I walked out on her…we had this stupid fight and…I just…I left her there…,"

They wanted to know about the fight. They wanted to know exactly what was said, how it was said, who was around, which direction I took when I left. They wanted to know what we ordered, who paid for it. They wanted to know about Anthony, if he'd ever met Kate, if he knew Kate didn't like him.

I don't know what I sounded like, but I answered their questions.

"I was going to say I was sorry today."

Someone slid a tissue box in front of me.

…

After I told him about Kate, Anthony started spending a lot more time with me. I wasn't being all that nice though and at one point I accused him of treating me like a charity case, but it didn't faze him. At first, that irritated me more, but that soft look he always gave me washed it away. He wanted to listen, or take my rudeness, or do whatever he had to do to help and I just didn't have the heart to stomp all over that once I realized it.

I told him about the fight, but I didn't go into a lot of detail. I'd been telling the truth when I said Anthony didn't know Kate or her feelings about him and I wanted to keep it that way. I just said that Kate was worried about me and that I took it the wrong way. The fight didn't matter anymore, except for the part where I walked away. I wanted just that little piece back; maybe it could have changed everything else. Anthony told me nothing was my fault, but he still let me talk it out for a long time.

He also let me do whatever I wanted all week, which did not include going to class. I just couldn't, I couldn't pass through the quad knowing that it was the place I met Kate every day. It was where I should see her, but wouldn't. I don't know what plans Anthony had, but he put them aside and I was too selfish to say anything about it. In fact, by Saturday night, just the thought of him going home again made me anxious.

It was after midnight and we were laying on the couch, well, Anthony was. I was laying on him. He looked exhausted, but he wouldn't let me move. My eyes were dry for once.

"Are those pansies?" He asked drowsily; he'd been punch-drunk for the last half hour or so.

I turned my head on his chest so we were both looking at the little potted flowers on my window sill. "Yeah, Emmett suggested them, but it was a joke, I think."

He slid his fingers through my hair. "I don't think you're a pansy."

I chuckled. "Thanks."

"Maybe a…jasmine…or that other one, how do you say it? Freeze something." He paused and I tried not to laugh. "No…strawberries, that, definitely."

I smiled. "What?" When he didn't answer, I said, "Strawberries aren't flowers." I felt silly pointing that out.

He made a quiet, half asleep sound. His hands had stilled on my back and his breathing was starting to sound deep and slow. I wanted nothing more than to let myself fall asleep too, but I knew we'd be hurting in the morning. Reluctantly, I leaned up.

Anthony looked peaceful, more so than I'd seen him lately. I didn't know if this affected him more than he was sharing, or if something else was going on, but he'd been so tired lately. I just wished he'd talk to me. But I'd needed him this week and he'd been perfect; now he needed me. I kissed his cheek. "Anthony," I murmured.

He shook his head and closed his eyes tighter.

I grinned at his boyishness. "Yes, c'mon…let's go to sleep."

Anthony opened his eyes at that. He'd spent all week here, but he always went home at the end of the night.

"I'm not going to let you drive home, you're half asleep." Briefly, I thought of the baseball game. I hadn't thought about it much, but I hadn't forgotten. For now, those feelings were up on a shelf.

He started to speak, but then cleared his throat. "I live close by."

I shook my head; I didn't want to risk it. "And I live right here," I pulled away and stood up.

He took the hand I offered. "I…don't really have anything to sleep in."

Not knowing what to say about that, I led him into the hallway and flicked the light on in the bathroom. "I'll uh, just be a minute," I said, feeling suddenly awkward. I knew nothing was going to happen, but I kept getting these errant thoughts that said I was corrupting him.

After I got ready I walked back into the bedroom, wishing I'd left nicer pajamas on top of my hamper that morning. I tugged on the string to my sweatpants, but the waist still sagged.

Anthony was sitting on the bed, his hands on his knees. He'd shed his jeans, but kept his t-shirt and underwear; they were boxer-briefs. "Sorry, I don't usually dress like such a tool for bed." He did a half shrug.

I waited in the doorway as if it wasn't my bedroom until he raised a hand up for me. "Come here." When I was closer, he scooted back on the bed. "Left or right?"

"Right," I answered. He moved across the bed to the other side and waited for me before he got settled. I clicked off my lamp and then I couldn't see, but I knew he was looking at me.

I felt his hand slide over my ribs to my back; he moved closer until his lips made contact with my forehead. It was almost brotherly. "Good night, Bella."

He was asleep before I could respond.

…

On Monday, it was time for my world to start spinning again. Anthony spent Sunday night with me, again giving me no more than a peck before drifting off. I was starting to wonder if he was raised to be that way. Thinking about that was a welcome distraction.

I got to campus exactly seven minutes early, not quite enough time to make it to my building without walking in late, but close enough.

The professor noticed me come in, but didn't say anything. The very long lecture, though on material I knew, was confusing because of my prolonged absence. I took notes dutifully, if robotically. The closer I came to the end of class, the fewer notes I took. By the end, my pen had gone still and I could only think about how I would be crossing the quad alone.

I kept my head down, my fingers gripping the straps to my worn out bag. I watched the space in front of me and recited lists in my head. _Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, and Emma; Persuasion and Northanger Abbey were published posthumously._

_Wuthering Heights, author a sister of_ –

"Bella," a male voice called out.

I stopped walking, feeling very much like a deer caught out in the open. I glanced toward the voice. "Garrett?"

He looked bad. His eyes were dark; there were drawn lines on his face I'd never seen before. His hair looked dirty and there was a bleach stain on his shirt. "Hey," he said as he closed the gap between us; it looked like it had taken all his energy to get that one word out.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "I uh…I didn't think you'd be here."

He shrugged, his arms crossed. "I couldn't be at home, you know?"

I nodded.

"So listen, I…," he exhaled heavily. "Can we go for a walk or something? Unless you have somewhere to be, I guess…," his jaw worked like he was chewing on the inside of his lip.

"Um, yeah, I don't…I don't have anywhere to be." I followed his lead. We walked parallel to the parking lot for a ways until we came to an open space between two of the buildings; it was shaded and had a couple of benches. I sat down on the closer one and waited for him to start. I thought maybe he'd want to talk about Kate, or ask me something about her, though I couldn't imagine what I knew that he wouldn't.

He sat on the opposite side of the bench, but swung one leg over so he was facing me. "She talked about you…she was kind of…," he huffed a breath and tucked some loose hair behind his ear.

I set my bag down on the ground, trying to think of the right thing to say. "I…I'm an alright listener," was all I could come up with.

"She told me about going to lunch with you," he started again. "I was away…my family lives back east. I wasn't there…," he stared at the dark paint of the seat and my heart hurt for him.

"It isn't your fault," I said firmly.

He just shook his head. "She got this idea that you were in trouble, or…that you were going to be. She'd become kind of a crusader after her ex…well, you already know about that. I thought she took things too far, but you really couldn't hold her down." His voice took on some distance. "Once she made her mind up about something," he grinned at a private memory.

"Garrett, I -,"

"I found this; she left it in my apartment." He reached into his backpack and pulled out a manila envelope. "I opened it…sorry," he added, handing it to me.

Something inside me tightened and my mouth went dry. The thick paper felt worn in my hand and the little metal clasp that was supposed to hold the top shut was broken. It didn't feel heavy. I wanted to give it back, but I didn't know why. "What -,"

"The detectives say it was probably a robbery gone wrong," Garrett said, suddenly. "They think she came home and the guy was still in there," he shook his head again.

I was starting to worry; he didn't look stable.

He was just in pain, I had to remind myself.

"You know, her stuff was all rifled through, but the guy just took some jewelry from the box on the dresser. It wasn't even worth anything." He rubbed his eyes, seeming surprised when his fingers pulled back wet. "She was still wearing her ring." His hand grasped the front of his shirt; I noticed a chain around his neck that dipped in past the collar.

"Garrett…," I shouldn't be here, I thought. I wasn't the right person to see this. Regardless, I reached out, squeezing the outside of his large palm.

He pulled his hand away after a second and stood up. "Sorry…I'm sorry…I just wanted to give you that, she said you didn't believe her. I thought that might…I don't know," he took a step back, clearly ready to leave.

I stood and walked with him to the parking lot. "I'm really sorry, Garrett," I said lamely. I couldn't really say how I felt out loud. Like some part of this was because of me.

He gave me a small nod and waited until I was safely in my car before walking away.

…

My phone vibrated on the kitchen counter and I jumped. Feeling silly, I grabbed it and hit a button to read my incoming message.

_Hey, can I come by later?_

Despite everything, I smiled that Anthony was asking permission. I typed out a response and sent it.

The envelope from Garrett was sitting in front of me. I'd gotten as far as lifting the flap, but not any farther. I took a breath, raking my hand through my hair. "This is stupid, just open the damn thing." I grabbed it and pulled everything out before I lost my nerve.

On top of the stack of paper sat a yellow sticky note. There was a phone number and the message – _in case you need anything, G_. I took it off and stuck it to the counter so I could read the first page. It had been ripped out of a notebook. I didn't know what Kate's writing looked like, but it had to be from her. I saw my name written on the first line.

_Bella, I don't know how_

The words were scratched out.

_I hate this_

Those were scratched out as well.

_Anthony Masen doesn't exist, Bella. He doesn't under that name, anyway. I'm sorry, I hope I'm wrong. Maybe there's a perfectly good explanation. _

She left her cell phone number. _In case there isn't_, she wrote.

My hands were shaking so I set the paper down and flipped to the next one. There were handwritten notes on various forms. She'd tried to do a background and credit check, and a number and address look up. The very last sheet was a print out, it must have been her first attempt because she'd simply plugged his name into a search engine. There was no information. According to this, she was right, Anthony Masen didn't exist.

I heard her voice in my head, always asking questions, making accusations. How did she see something that I didn't?

No, this was ridiculous. She was jumping to conclusions.

He was real and he was here. I'd been to his apartment building, he'd met my friends, he went to my school. Didn't he? I stared at Kate's handwriting, tapping a finger on the cool tile. My mind started making a list automatically.

_I'd been to his apartment, but never inside._

_ He'd met my friends, but I'd never met his._

_ I'd seen him at school, but never in class._

_ There was the accident and the way he was in exactly the right place at the right time_.

What was it that Kate had said to me? _He's always there, isn't he…_

I felt like my mind didn't know where to go with this. If he was telling the truth, then I was awful. If he was lying to me, I didn't know what then.

What didn't make sense to me was why he would be lying, if he was.

Maybe he had some dark family secret and he changed his name to get away from it. I rested my elbows on the counter, my imagination in overdrive. My head in my hands, I tried to think of a plausible reason for all of this.

Maybe he was poor, and he was lying to make himself look better. No, if that were the case, the lies would be about the money he didn't have.

Maybe…maybe, maybe, maybe…

My head hurt.

My phone buzzed and I picked it up.

_Going to the diner, I don't want to hear it Bells, you know I can't make cobbler_. Leave it to my dad to elicit a laugh, even a small one.

And then I remembered something. The reason why I couldn't stop thinking about Anthony's parents.

The first night I let him into my apartment, he said he just so happened to be visiting a friend. _Perfect timing_. We'd talked for a long time and eventually, I'd told him about my mother. He'd told me he'd lost his parents, both of them. But then, that night I told him about the money, he said _"…my dad…he's - still around somewhere…,"_

Anthony had lied to me.

I saw my laptop across the living room, sitting open on the desk. I walked over to it and sat down. I had to know.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan, and SydneyAlice for pre-reading, and thank you all for being you. The different theories you tell me make my day, but I still won't tell you if you're hot or cold :)


	17. Sixteen: Charade

Sixteen: Charade

I'd never researched someone I knew before. Most of my information on anything came from the library and I doubted I'd find the truth about Anthony among the stacks. My too calm fingers moved over the keyboard and I typed his name in without hesitating this time.

It wasn't that I felt no fear, in fact, I was terrified. And movies kept running through my head. What had Audrey Hepburn done in _Charade_? But that wasn't helpful at all. So I focused and pretended that this wasn't actually happening to _me_. And when my mind asked the question "why", I put it on hold.

My initial search yielded a few pages of results. Men and women whose last name was Masen, men whose first name was Anthony, Facebook pages of people named something Anthony Masen, character descriptions from some book, job websites. None of it was useful so I opened up my Facebook; I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually logged into it. Alice had convinced me to get one. All my pictures were either with her or my dad.

My phone vibrated. _Speak of the devil_. I opened it up to reply to her where-have-you-been message. My friends knew about Kate and had demanded that I not hole up in my apartment, but that's all I'd wanted to do. I felt guilty now for pushing my friends away and letting Anthony in. Or whatever his name was. I sent Alice a message, the limited space not really enough for a proper apology. But I couldn't tell them all what was going on. Not when I didn't even know yet.

There were more than two hundred results for Anthony Masen on Facebook. I tried narrowing it down by city and then by school, but both took the list down to zero so I went back to my original results. I went through the profiles until my eyes blurred, but didn't find him.

I rubbed my temples. I wasn't any good at this. What did I know about spying on people? Everything I could think of came from old movies; I didn't even have a beautiful companion to help me out. "Alright," I said to no one, "this isn't working."

According to the information from Kate, the background check yielded nothing usable. There were "Anthony Masens", just not mine.

I groaned.

I needed help from someone with resources and I knew exactly who that was. The problem was that I really didn't want to lie, but I didn't think I could tell the truth, not the complete truth anyway. I grabbed my phone and dialed. While it rang, I came up with a very pathetic, very transparent, cover story.

"Bells?"

"Hey, dad," I said, trying to quell my desire to chicken out.

After an awkward pause, he cleared his throat. "How's things?"

I grasped for something to say. "Um…fine, are you driving?"

"Yeah, hang on a sec." I heard the sound of his car door closing and then his footsteps on the porch. When he got all the way inside, his demeanor changed. "What's wrong?"

It took me by surprise, but then again, he wasn't the chief of police because of his looks. "I – what do you mean?" I hit my palm against my forehead.

He snorted into the phone.

"Ok…I have this friend and she's dating someone and…I'm worried about her." It didn't even sound that good in my head.

"And is your _friend_ in some kind of trouble?"

"_Dad_…,"

"Alright, alright…so, what's going on?"

I got up and went back to the counter where I'd left Kate's research. "I think this guy is lying about who he is, I don't know why though. And…I think it'll help if - my friend had more information about him."

"You want me to look him up?"

I felt like I was standing right at the edge of something. "Yes."

I gave my dad the information I had on Anthony; it felt like I was betraying him.

"Bells?" Charlie said when I was finished.

"Yeah?"

"If you were in trouble, you'd tell me?"

I hated this, I was lying to everybody. "Of course."

…

I stood at the kitchen counter until my feet hurt, alternately tapping on the tiles and re-reading the file. What had possessed Kate to do this? And why hadn't I seen it? I had never been so gullible, so naïve, in my whole life. Traitorous tears stung my eyes and I felt like a child.

The buzzer sounded by my front door.

"Crap." I walked over, clearing my throat in an effort to sound normal. I hit the button and said hello.

"Hey, it's me."

I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye like he might see it otherwise.

I didn't know what to do. I had no good information, just an incomplete search. What if it was wrong? Or, what if this turned out to be something else entirely? One thing I knew for sure, I needed more than what I had.

I hit the button to let him in and then ran over to the papers which were strewn around my small kitchen. I stuffed them back in the envelope every which way and then stuck it in the middle of some junk mail. I grabbed my laptop and shut the lid, then wiped my eyes again and finger combed my hair. In the last couple of seconds I had, I glanced around to make sure nothing was out of place.

When he knocked, I took a deep breath then plastered a fake half smile on my face.

"Hey, baby." He pulled me into a hug that felt foreign and it took all I had not to demand his real name right then and there. "Hey," he said again, stepping inside. "What's the matter?"

_Anthony Masen doesn't exist_. "Nothing," I answered. "First day back on campus, you know…," I walked over to the couch and sat down, he followed. "I saw Garrett."

He held his hands between his knees. "Oh?"

"Yeah." I leaned back against the cushions, trying to remember how I would normally sit. I suddenly wished my dad had taught me how to interrogate someone. "What'd you do today?"

"Um, ran some errands, nothing much really."

"No class?" I went back, thinking of all the hours we'd spent together since we met. There had never been a block of time when he wasn't available.

"Uh, well yeah, but that was first thing this morning." He rubbed the back of his neck and then readjusted, slipping his fingers around my bare ankle. I tried not to let the feeling get to me. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Mm-hmm, do you feel like Chinese tonight? I think I have a menu in my junk drawer." It gave me an excuse to get up and gather my cool, not that I'd ever had any. I located the little paper menu and grabbed my phone. "Anything special you want?" I asked him. I felt like I was moving too much and talking too fast.

"Whatever you're getting is fine." I could tell he was watching me even though I'd turned my back. I counted in my head, needing a minute to calm down.

After I ordered, I went back to the couch, this time stretching out so my feet were in his lap. He grinned at me and ran his fingertips over the tops of my toes, making me twitch. I smiled and it wasn't completely forced. When he started up a conversation, I followed.

…

"If I eat another bite I'm going to have to unbutton my pants."

I took the container from him and closed it up. He'd eaten most of the food; my appetite had been waning all day. I just hoped he wouldn't mention it.

We cleared away everything and stuck the leftovers in the fridge. In the kitchen, I stretched conspicuously and he wrapped himself around me from behind. It felt so exactly right until I forced myself to remember that it was all a big fat lie.

_Anthony Masen doesn't exist_.

"I think I'm going to have to call it an early night," I said, my back still to him. I felt his breath on my shoulder and the heat of the kiss he pressed there.

"Alright," he murmured.

I turned in his arms, my gaze fastened to his shirt collar. "I'll call you tomorrow, ok?" There was no way he could sleep here tonight.

"Oh, uh yeah…yeah."

Finally, I looked up at him. In the stark overhead lighting, he looked drawn and it gave his eyes a strange, unnatural hue. "Are those colored contacts?" I asked out of nowhere. I hadn't even realized I was asking until the words were leaving my mouth. But now that I thought of it, the implications of his answer could be significant.

His mouth opened, but he didn't say anything.

I needed this, I realized. The whole night I hadn't been able to get anything, I didn't even know how to start. But I had him now; he would have to answer me. I looked him in the eye while I waited.

He licked his lips and parted them again. "Yeah…I, yes – they are." His hands at my waist tightened.

I thought carefully about the next thing I said. "Unusual color…like amber, almost."

"Yeah."

I swallowed once and then went for it. "What's your real eye color?"

I felt him freeze under my hands and I knew this was important, but I couldn't quite figure out why yet.

"It's um…they're kind of like, you know, like a – green color," he tripped over his words.

I'd hit on something, but it was one puzzle piece in a million and I didn't even know what the picture was supposed to look like when it was finished. I pushed on anyway. "Green, that's nice. If I had green eyes, I wouldn't wear contacts to make them look different."

"Your eyes are beautiful," he said quickly.

I gave him a half smile in response.

"Look, I should probably get going," he pulled away and moved for the door. At the last minute, he turned back around and kissed me, his hands coming up to my face.

I wasn't expecting it, but I let him. His mouth was warm; moving over mine in wave after languorous wave. I tried not to enjoy it, I tried not to feel the familiarity, but I did. I cursed myself for falling for him like I did, over and over.

After we said goodnight and I shut the door, I really felt as exhausted as I'd pretended to be. I washed my face and brushed my teeth before undressing and then collapsing into bed. Sleep came quickly and deeply.

…

She watched him like she knew exactly who he was, an old friend or someone she wished she'd known better. She was so positive.

The sun shone behind her head too brightly, like those movies set in the desert with the bleached out colors – yellow and brown and heat and sweat. I couldn't remember her question, but I had an answer to it anyway. "No, I'm sorry, you're mistaken." I tried to shade my eyes, but it was no use.

She spoke some more. She talked a lot and the temperature didn't seem to affect her at all.

I felt like I was melting; I gripped the table I found myself at to keep from falling. She asked me something else.

"No, did you say green eyes? Anthony has…brown eyes."

"This is important," she said.

"What's important?" The heat was making me nauseated; I couldn't listen. I wanted to jump in the ocean.

"Edward definitely had green eyes."

…

I sat up in bed, breathing hard. I could still feel the heat from my dream, the hair around my face was damp with sweat.

That girl from the pier.

_Edward definitely had green eyes_.

The boy she went to high school with, the one she was so sure was Anthony. The boy that had disappeared after graduation.

Edward Cullen.

…

My dad wasn't at work yet and he hadn't answered his phone. He always answered his phone.

I went to class because I couldn't sit around and redial my father every five minutes. I had no idea what we talked about and when the professor asked me a question, I flushed and admitted that I wasn't paying attention.

When I walked out of the building, I grabbed my phone out of my bag. One missed call and a voicemail, it was from Charlie. I hit the button to listen to the message.

"Bella, I got the information you were looking for…Um, I'm gonna have to look into this some more," he sighed into the phone. "This Anthony person, there wasn't much, I pulled a driver's license and a couple other things, but from what I'm seeing here…Bella, this guy didn't exist until a few weeks ago. There's nothing on him from before March 1st. I don't know what you've gotten yourself involved with down there but…call me back."

I got in my car and closed the door. I thought I might feel safer this way, but I didn't. I listened to the message again, half hoping it would be different the second time around. It wasn't. Anthony Masen didn't exist before two months ago.

Why? My mind still pressed and still I had no idea what to say to that.

With trembling fingers, I hit the buttons to call my father.

"Isabella, what's going on?" He said in greeting.

My mouth worked, trying to come up with an answer to that. "I…I don't know. I -,"

"Look, if you're in some kind of trouble -,"

"No," I interrupted, though I wasn't so sure if that was true or not. "I have another name for you. The…the first one was a mistake, I – I gave you the wrong name," my voice betrayed my lie.

"A mistake? Bella…,"

"No, it's fine. It – it was my fault."

"Well, there's something there, I don't know what's going -,"

"Edward Cullen, dad, that's the name I should have given you. Edward Cullen," something occurred to me then, something I remembered from my short talk with the girl on the pier. "He might be from Chicago, that's all I have."

"Bella, talk to me."

"I've gotta go, dad. I'm fine." My throat felt too full to push anymore lies out. "Thank you."

He sighed, "Yeah."

I hung up and then went home to wait.

…

I sat curled up on my sofa; I had a blanket though it was too hot for one. My hair was wet. When I got home, I'd taken another shower, cleaning every part of me _he'd_ ever touched. Still, I felt his hands. I saw his smile, heard that tone he got when he was teasing me. _Why?_

He'd called sometime after one, but I didn't answer. I knew it was only a matter of time before he came over. My door was locked and my blinds were drawn.

I stared at my phone. When it finally rang I jumped, my hand flying to my throat. I checked the caller ID and saw that it was Charlie. I answered it, my movements shaky.

"I had to call in a favor to get this. The new name got a lot more hits. I don't know what's going on," he said pointedly. "But I think you should stay away from this guy, Bells."

"I am."

"Good…I shouldn't be sharing this with you, you know that, right?"

I told him that I understood.

"Do you have access to a fax machine?"

I didn't, and I knew of only one person that did.

…

I followed his directions to a construction site deep in an industrial section of the city. The text said to take the southwest entrance and that he'd be in the trailer.

I knocked lightly, but the door still rattled on its hinges. A muffled voice on the other side called for me to come in. "Hey Bells." Emmett was looking over blueprints for the half finished building. He sat at a makeshift work space, a desk taking up most of the room.

"Hey, thanks for letting me use your fax." I tried to keep the quaver out of my voice, but the look he gave me said he wasn't buying it. To his credit, he didn't say anything, just gave me the number which I sent to Charlie. Within a few minutes, pages started printing.

Some part of me wanted to believe it wasn't true, a really big part of me. I wanted everything explained away, and then I could go home. I'd return _his_ call and let him in my bed and I could put this all behind me. I hated all this suspicion and I hated lying to people. I hated feeling like this was all just the beginning.

"Is that a mug shot?" Emmett pushed his chair back to get a better look.

I squeezed between the desk and the trailer wall, not having known the fax would print face up. I yanked the first sheet out of the tray and held it against my chest, looking as guilty as I felt.

"Was that Anthony?"

"No." I said because I didn't want to believe it. As another few sheets came through, I grabbed them up.

My eyes watered and Emmett frowned, standing up in the tiny space. "What's…?" He started.

_It isn't him, it isn't him_. I pressed the papers to me more tightly.

"Bella?"

"I – I need a minute." I couldn't look at this with Emmett in here with me.

"I'll be right outside," he shuffled awkwardly around me and walked out.

I stood still and waited for something. It was so quiet I could hear the men calling back and forth to each other clearly. My vision swam in front of me so I blinked to clear it.

Slowly, I pulled the first sheet back, the one with the picture. It was plain, just a black and white head shot, and took up only the top left corner of the page. His hair was longer, his face was thinner, but it was him without a doubt.

Next to that was some information that I could barely read because of my stupid tearing eyes.

Name: Cullen, Edward  
DOB: 06/20/83

There was a string of numbers called a booking number. My eyes scanned more quickly. Now that I was looking, I couldn't read it fast enough.

Arrest Date: 07/19/01

He was arrested for petty theft, but spent no time in jail. This wasn't enough for someone to create a new life and it happened nine years ago. I went to the next page, letting the first fall to the floor. He had a car registered in his name, but it wasn't the silver one I'd seen him driving. On the third page, I recognized my dad's messy handwriting.

_Why does this picture match the license photo of Anthony Masen?_

_Edward Cullen's juvenile records are sealed, but at the time of this arrest he was homeless and I'm betting this wasn't his first encounter with the police. What aren't you telling me?_

I fell into Emmett's chair, still holding my father's note. My mind raced.

Why? Why start a new life? Was he ashamed? Why not keep his real name and just never mention this part of his past? I trusted him before this, I would never have looked.

I didn't hear Emmett until he was through the door. "Bells?" He came over and kneeled in front of me; I must have looked pretty bad. "Hey," he held an arm of the chair. When I didn't answer right away, he reached down to take the paper I'd let fall. He read it, frowning.

"I – I don't know…," my voice cut out so I started again. "I don't know what's going on."

I was desperate to believe anything. Desperate to have things go back to the way they were before. I wavered. It was just a few sheets of paper; they'd be so easy to throw away. I could break up with him, or not, and just stop looking any further.

Taking the sheet from Emmett, I put it with the rest and stood up. "I…I need to…,"

Emmett straightened, his expression uncompromising. "I'm coming with you."

I felt myself push back against my indecision. That wasn't me.

I was afraid, but I needed the truth and I needed it from Edward Cullen.

* * *

Author's Note: Hi, I have someone coming to visit for a few days so it was either post today or Sunday; I thought you guys might prefer today. Anyway, thanks to my pre-readers of course - jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan, and SydneyAlice, and thanks to you guys. I'm having so much fun with this :)


	18. 17: My Heart's Gonna Break from the Fall

Seventeen: "My Heart's Gonna Break from the Fall"

_"Welcome home, son." He poured me a glass of champagne even though it was nine in the morning._

_ My hand around the glass was sure, but my heart was pounding. I finished in one long pull and when I set it down he poured me another. "So," I began, "what now?"_

…

I needed to get the fuck out of here. It was the only way to keep Bella safe and myself alive. My employer wouldn't dare lay a finger on her, not if he still saw her as a meal ticket. But the problem was that he was missing and I had no way to find him. So I couldn't be sure of anything and the urge to run was getting stronger and stronger. I'd disappeared before; it was easy.

After I made the decision, I started thinking about taking Bella with me. We could both get new names, be whoever we wanted, live where we wanted, or never set down roots at all. We could see everything. And we'd be together.

But I'd never be able to call her Bella again and she'd never call me Edward.

I paced in my small living room, six steps each way.

…

_"I just need to get her to give me her keys?" I tried to keep my voice down, but it was difficult over the noise of the club. It wasn't like those college places I'd snuck into before; this place was class. My new employer was a regular here and they must have trusted him or something because they didn't even check my ID, not that it was real anyway. _

_ "That's right."_

_ "And I can't just steal them?" It seemed easier than trying to talk her into giving them away._

_ He nodded._

_ "And then what?"_

_ "You can take her little Porsche 911 for a ride if you'd like," he grinned. "Think of this as practice."_

…

I needed to get out of here.

I needed to see Bella again.

I needed to find my employer and un-fuck this situation, if that was even in the realm of possibility anymore. How much did he know? How did he know? What would he do? Or did he just feel like up and moving and I was worrying over nothing? He was like that.

My hands went through my hair, a half conscious thing. It used to be a comfort, something someone else did for me, but that was from another life. Everything good was from another life, one that had never felt so damn far away.

The heaviness was starting to crush me in a really close to literal sense so I sat down because I couldn't take it. For one perfect second, I was vacant. It was still and quiet the noise from the fighting couple next door wasn't coming through the walls.

_I could confess everything._

Someone was knocking on my front door. I didn't have a gate or buzzer the way Bella did, all anyone ever had to do was walk right up to my apartment.

They must have the wrong place, I thought. Because no one came here, ever. Very few people even knew where my real apartment was at any given time, with a very notable exception. I felt cold though it was stifling in my cramped quarters. On the second round of knocks, I answered.

"Sir," I affected a pleasantly surprised tone; it was half true. I opened the door wider, feeling like I was digging the grave I was about to be buried in.

"You haven't answered your phone," he said by way of greeting. He walked in with purpose, stopping in the middle of my living room to look around with no expression. I recognized the look; he was memorizing the details.

"I'm sorry, I – lost it." I prayed he wouldn't test my lie by dialing the number right now. I knew very well he'd called. "I had no way to reach you so I just…,"

"Why aren't you at your apartment?"

Why is your house empty? I wanted to ask. Instead, I stepped closer, the tip of my shoe just crossing from the linoleum to the carpet. I had to play this carefully. My head lowered, repentant, I said, "I needed a break. I've never been at it so long…I – I'm not sure if I was really ready for this." It was thin, really, because this wasn't my first time. There was no reason that I shouldn't have been ready, but there'd been no way I could have ever prepared myself for her.

He sighed and I kept going. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner…this is so important…," I didn't dare look up to see if he was buying it. If he wasn't, I was dead where I stood. It made me think of Kate. I imagined the landlord finding my body here after people started complaining of the smell.

"My boy…haven't I always helped you when you needed me? Haven't I always been there for you? Even when no one else was? I'm disappointed that it has meant so little to you."

"It has!" I countered automatically. "You…saved my life."

"Yes, I did." He glanced around the room again. "And yet you come here…,"

I hung my head. "I'm sorry." I thought about telling him that I had, in fact, gone to his house, but decided that I didn't want to give away any information he wasn't directly asking for.

"Enough of that, now, tell me more about this problem." He crossed his arms, his weight even on both feet.

I grit my teeth, unable to say her name to him. I wanted her as far from this as possible. "I'm just tired, I guess."

"Is that what's made you so sloppy?"

"What?" His question caught me by surprise.

"You're a perfectionist by nature and yet you let that Ekaterina person suspect you. Your cover was much too thin. Why do you think I had to have her disposed of?"

"Kate?" I closed my mouth as quickly as it had dropped open. I knew it, of course, but to hear the words… Her death really was on my hands. I'd been sloppy, as he put it. It was true, as my infatuation grew, my rules bent, broke, or fell by the wayside. I created no online shadow, almost no records; I barely paid any attention to anyone else. I should have been watching, listening, and taking care of things on my end. She might still be alive.

"I was only looking out for you."

My mind spun and my mouth went dry. "Of course."

"Have you introduced the charity?" He was off in another vein.

"Um -,"

"What are you waiting for? Isabella has her next meeting with her trustees in two weeks; I want her to have decided by then."

_Two weeks_.

"And then it'll be finished." His mouth lifted in a semblance of a smile, as if I should be grateful for the news. "Incidentally, I'm increasing your cut. How does two million strike you?"

Two million. Two weeks.

My mouth opened, but I didn't speak.

"That's what I thought."

…

My finger hovered over the button next to Bella's name; I pushed it and waited for her to answer.

_I am one selfish, pathetic bastard_.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded scratchy in the little speaker.

"Hey, it's me."

When she didn't buzz me up right away, I considered turning and leaving. Just like that I'd be gone – did she really need the pain of a goodbye? The noise from the unlocking gate stirred me out of it.

I took the steps with inordinate slowness, going over what I was going to say. I couldn't be sloppy this time.

_Bella, I'm so sorry…_

It was never really a question of stealing from her or not. I wouldn't do that, couldn't, ever; that was forgone. It was how much to tell her before I disappeared.

She must have heard me coming because the door swung open before I raised my hand to knock. But instead of Bella standing there, it was Emmett. He took up the entire frame and I couldn't see Bella past him. "Uh, hey Emmett…I didn't know you'd be here…," it shot my entire plan to hell. I couldn't do this with him here; I needed to leave as many people out of this as possible. I had been the cause of enough death.

His face was a flat mask, a distant cry from the easy smile he wore when I met him. His arms were crossed and he looked like he was ready to kill somebody.

"Em?" I heard Bella's small voice call from the direction of the kitchen.

I tried to look around Emmett. After a second he backed away from his sentinel position at the door. I felt something like a knife twisting in my stomach and sweat on my brow. Something wasn't right. I stepped inside and shut the door behind me with a soft click.

I stepped toward her on the other side of the breakfast bar. Two things happened – Emmett made a move closer and Bella took a step back. I looked between the two of them.

She looked ragged. Her hair was up, but falling at the edges; her nose was red and so were her eyes. She pulled the sleeves of her shirt down over her hands. "Baby, what happened?" I put a hand up and then let it drop when she wrapped her arms around herself. She didn't want me to touch her.

Bella opened her mouth, but then her face crumpled and she shook her head.

I started around the kitchen island. I reached for her, but Emmett grabbed my arm hard. "Don't." He said.

I shook my arm out of his considerable grasp. "What's going on?" My pulse stuttered like it knew something I didn't. "Bella?"

She touched Emmett's forearm softly, communicating something to him. He stepped back and leaned against the wall by the entrance to the hallway.

Bella grabbed a sheaf of papers sitting on the counter; she pressed them into her chest once and then grabbed the top one and set it back on the counter. It was a copy of my Anthony driver's license. Blood rushed in my ears and I felt sick.

She looked at the second sheet of paper for a long time before laying it down next to the first. With the tips of her fingers, she pushed it toward me.

I stared at the grainy picture – my face, Edward's face, my real name printed next to it. The air sucked out of the room and it was just me, one truth, and one lie.

Bella's voice was like sandpaper. "Who are you?"

My employer's voice invaded my head. _Who are you? Who's the target?_

"My name is Edward Cullen." I didn't feel any of the relief I'd expected from saying it out loud. Instead I felt like I was killing Bella myself.

She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"Bella, I can explain -,"

Her eyes snapped to mine for the first time since I'd walked in the door. "Oh? And why should I believe anything you say?" Her voice was sharp, but I saw the desperation in her eyes. She wanted to believe me.

"I'm telling you the truth now." It sounded pathetic in my ears. I kept going anyway, Emmett all but forgotten. "My real name is Edward and -,"

"Why?" She whispered.

I didn't know which of the countless things she was referring to so, in a moment of absolute recklessness, I decided to answer them all. "I was sent here to…to steal from you."

"_What?_" Emmett stood up straight and instinctively I took a step back.

"Em, please," she begged.

"No fucking way, Bells," he came closer and she put herself in between us.

After everything, that was what did it – the final nail. How could I have ever gone this far with someone so good? My vision clouded with the guilt and I wanted to die. "It's alright, I deserve it."

"Damn right you do," he said, but he didn't make a move. When Bella pushed on him, he backed up again.

She faced me once she was sure Emmett was going to stay put. Her mouth opened, but it took her a minute to say anything. "So…you did all of this because you wanted…my money?" Her arms were still folded around herself, her shoulders hunched.

There was only one thing I could say. "Yes."

The corners of her mouth turned down as she tried so hard to keep it together. For the rest of my life I'd remember that look.

"I would have given it to you…if you told me you needed it, I would have given it to you…,"

I didn't know how to tell her that I didn't need it, I wanted it. My employer wanted it. "It isn't…it wasn't like that, it's -," I stopped. How do you tell the person you love that this was planned, organized, that I'd spied on her, that I'd done too many things to even recount.

"What's it like, then?" She shifted, still keeping herself in front of Emmett. It was like she knew whatever I was going to say was beyond bad.

I watched her, not allowing myself the distance that came with looking at the floor. "I steal from people. That's…what I do, what I've done…I -,"

"Like…your job?"

"I…yes, you could call it that."

She was quiet for a long time, but when I opened my mouth to keep going, the look she gave me kept me from talking.

Quietly, she asked, "how many other women have you done this to?"

There were variables here, each con was different and none had ever gone on this long. "It…it's complicated."

"_How many other women?"_ Her jaw clenched.

"Um," I tried to count in my head every single woman I'd been in contact with since meeting my employer. Each one that had paid for a dinner, given me a watch or a car, a priceless piece of art; I weighted them all the same. There were other things too, things my employer had me do – errands. But I never knew what I was doing. "Seventeen."

Her mouth dropped open. She thought they'd all been like her.

"You – you were the first…like this. I mean, before, it wasn't like it is with you." I could barely complete a sentence. "I've never taken this much from someone," I rushed.

"Why…," she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Why didn't you just take it? Why, why all – this?" She shook her head. "You made me…you…,"

I fought the desperate itch to pull her into me, if I just reached a little bit…

"Bella c'mon," Emmett urged. His voice lowered, "you don't have to do this. Why should you believe what he says, anyway? Let's go, c'mon," he pleaded.

"No, I want to hear it. I – I have a right to know."

Before he could intervene and take her away for good, I told her the worst parts. She deserved to know what kind of monster I really was. "I had to get you to trust me. With that much money, I wouldn't be able to just take it. There was…something set up. I had to get you to give the money away, but it was actually going to me." I was trying to leave my employer out of it, my last ditch effort at keeping her safe.

"Give the money away to what?"

"I don't -,"

"Give the money away to _what?_" She repeated with more force.

"A children's charity."

And then there it was in her eyes, finally, the anger I'd been waiting for.

"A…you – you, _what?_" She put her hands into her hair and then dropped them, turned to Emmett and then back to me. "I can't do this, I can't – this isn't happening." She wiped her eyes again.

"Bella -,"

"_No_, you don't get to talk anymore. I want you to leave. Go back to wherever you came from and pray the police can't find you."

But there was more I had to tell her. Victoria was still in her life. She was in more danger than I realized. I had to say that I loved her and that I would try my best to keep whatever was coming away from her. "Bella -,"

"_Out!_"

She was shaking now and I still wanted to hold her but Emmett was right at her back.

"There's -,"

Her hands shot out and she shoved hard against my chest. "I said _get out!_ _Get out, get the fuck out!" _She backed away and covered her face, her sobs and broken heart clear as day.

But there was so much more.

"She told you to get out." Emmett had moved in front of me.

I couldn't leave yet. _There's more_. "No, she might not be safe -,"

His right arm pulled back, his fist tight.

"Em, don't!" Bella's hands went around his elbow, tugging on him ineffectively. I had no idea why she was still protecting me.

His fist collided solidly with the side of my face and I jerked back, my hand going out on its own to grab the kitchen counter for balance. _Fuck_, it hurt. I caught my breath and stood again. Bella was standing helplessly, a hand over her mouth, tears on her cheeks. "It won't end when I go," it killed to speak; the heat around my jaw blossomed stronger and stronger as the seconds passed. I put a hand up when Emmett tried to say something. "There's more than just me out there. I'll do what I can…say you refuse to give the money away or something. I'll make it my fault. I don't think they'll come after you."

"Come after me?"

"You're way too valuable to them. But – maybe you should stay somewhere else for a little while." Again, my hands itched to touch her. "I'm so sorry, Bella."

She only shook her head, well past her breaking point.

I backed up a couple of steps toward the door. "For what it's worth, I wasn't…I couldn't do it…I know that doesn't mean anything, but…I'm so fucking sorry, Bella." I grabbed the doorknob, taking one more look at her broken face. I walked out, leaving all the shattered pieces behind.

* * *

Author's Note: The End

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just kidding :)

Thanks to my pre-readers - jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan, and SydneyAlice. And thanks to all of you, I'm still amazed by the response this story has gotten. That being said, I'm going to go hide now.


	19. Eighteen: Ever Get the Feeling

Eighteen: Ever Get the Feeling

Edward Cullen's eyes were green. He was confessing that everything about him was a lie and in the back of my mind I couldn't stop thinking about his eyes. They were forest green under the light in the kitchen, or maybe a really dark emerald. The shadows around them were pronounced and without the contacts I thought I'd be able to read him better, but I was wrong.

I was so past trusting myself and if Emmett wasn't there I don't know what I would have done. When the front door shut I thought I might sink right into the floor. I wasn't built to handle this, but was anyone?

Emmett grabbed my shoulder. "We've got to go."

"What?" I can't go, I wanted to tell him. If I left this would be real and stuff like this didn't happen in my reality. "But…you said I shouldn't believe him."

"Well, he knows you live here which means his – friends know you live here. I don't know about you, but I'm not really in a take-a-chance mood." He gave me a little push toward the hallway. "Go. Pack."

My feet moved without me while in my head I was trying to convince myself that I was packing for pleasure instead of out of fear. I went through my drawers with no idea how much to bring because I didn't know when this would be over, if it would ever be. What had Edward Cullen done? What had he gotten me into? I wondered about my money. If he'd just taken it, would I have been left alone afterward? Would I be broke and broken hearted, but safe? Which was worse? Was he even telling the truth now, or spinning another story to save himself because somehow he knew that I was on to him? The questions kept coming, but the answers remained frustratingly absent.

When I looked down, my bag was full of things I couldn't remember putting in there. I checked through to make sure I had everything and then went into the bathroom to grab the rest.

I don't know how long I took, but I guess it was too long because Emmett was right outside the door when I came out. "Have everything?" His keys and mine were already in his hand.

"Um -,"

"Good, let's go." He took my bag, led me out, and locked my door behind me.

I hesitated at the top step.

"Bells, what?" I could tell his patience was almost gone, but I didn't want to move. I wanted to cover my eyes like you do when you're little; maybe it would make me invisible. "What do you want? For him to come back and explain it again? He's not real, Bella. Whatever you think you know about him, you don't. I'm taking you to my place, we'll…I don't know, we'll figure it out, ok?"

I followed him. I took one look behind me before I shut the front gate, not to remember anything, but because I felt something on the back of my neck. Like someone touching me though no one was there.

Emmett lived in a small townhouse a couple of blocks from the water. When he bought it, it was a wreck he says, which was the only way he could afford it. He fixed it up from the inside out and now it was beautiful. He seemed like a big bear a lot of the time, but he had a really great eye for architecture.

Rosalie had just moved in a few weeks prior and there were still boxes, most half empty, stacked haphazardly along the walls. "Kind of a work in progress," he said after flipping on the lights.

The whole place was decidedly masculine, but in an inviting way. The two sofas were big and comfortable looking; they sat off to the right along with a giant flat screen. The kitchen was on the left and was remarkably clean, but I knew Emmett didn't do much cooking. Regardless, his appliances were state of the art.

He set my bag down next to the sofa. "Well, there's a bathroom under the stairs, it doesn't have a shower though. The other one is right at the top of the stairs. I have a second bedroom, but no bed, so the couch'll be yours. Sorry…,"

"It's fine," I said absently. The dark couch was plenty big enough and besides, I didn't think I'd be doing much sleeping tonight.

"Look, I think we should -,"

"I just want to go to bed, ok?"

He scratched a spot above his right eyebrow. "Alright, I'll grab you some blankets and stuff." The wood floors creaked loudly under his heavy footsteps.

I went into the bathroom and changed into an old pair of sweats. I brushed my teeth and washed my face and didn't look in the mirror. By the time I got back to the couch, Emmett had already covered it in a top sheet and a quilt; I smiled a little at the detail.

The fridge closed behind me. "Rose is gonna be home pretty soon; she had group tonight. I should probably stay up and wait for her." He shifted awkwardly. Now that the adrenaline had faded, he was just as lost as I was. "I'll be upstairs, you know, if you need anything."

I nodded and lay down. The big quilt smelled like fabric softener. Emmett flicked off the kitchen light and then moved to the small lamp on the other side of the living room.

"Keep it on?" I asked.

"Sure." He tousled my hair as he passed by. "Night, Bells."

I tried to sleep after he went up, but instead I saw Edward's face and those green eyes. It was so much nicer than the other color. I thought of his hands. I thought of all those idle touches and the purposeful ones too. His mouth and that lying smile and all those perfectly right things he always said.

I opened my eyes and now I just saw the big television and the small cabinet underneath it. That was easier to look at.

After a few more minutes, I heard what must have been Rosalie's key in the door. I decided to sit up because I knew she'd have some questions.

The lights turned on in the kitchen. "Rose -,"

She spun toward me, a sharp gasp leaving her mouth. She touched her chest and dropped her purse on the breakfast bar. "Jesus, Bella." She breathed.

"I'm sorry, I'm - I didn't mean to scare you." I started to stand, but she waved at me not to bother.

"What are you doing here?"

Emmett clambered down the stairs, saving me from having to say anything. "Hey babe…um…," he looked at me. "Bella's…,"

He wouldn't keep it from her and I didn't want him to. I combed a hand through my hair. "It's alright, you can tell her."

…

I fell asleep sometime, but I couldn't say when. I didn't dream at all, which was nice. When I woke up, there was sunlight coming through the bamboo shades.

Behind me, I heard a cup being set on the granite countertop. Rosalie's voice was quiet, but sharp. "We need to call the police," she half whispered. "He can't get away with this."

"I know, baby." Emmett sighed. "I don't think she's going to want to."

"Have you talked to her about it yet?"

"No, but…I just get the feeling."

"He's brainwashed her, Em. God, I can't believe I didn't see it." She paused and I heard her shoes click lightly across the floor. "What if…I mean, what would he have done if…,"

"Baby," he soothed. He must have been holding her or something because his next words came out muffled. "This was just about her money…he's not Royce, baby. I think he was just gonna take what he wanted and then leave her."

Rose sniffled. "Royce did that too."

"I know."

They were quiet for a couple of minutes. I tried not to move a muscle, hoping they'd leave for work so I could be alone. I had to think, I had to get out of this suspended animation I was in. But whenever I tried, there was Edward's face, his amber eyes, and his green eyes that were so much better.

I had missed most of it, but Rose and Emmett were talking again.

"I didn't say that I didn't hit him, just that I didn't enjoy it." I heard the sink turn on and then the sound of something being rinsed off.

Eventually, they said their goodbyes, but only Emmett left. The water ran for a couple of minutes and dishes were washed and put away. I wondered what time Rosalie left for her job. She did administrative work for a women's shelter, it seemed like a place that would keep normal working hours.

"You can stop faking now."

I thought about pretending to wake up, but that would have been dumb. Instead, I sat up and stretched my back, casually avoiding eye contact.

"Breakfast?"

"No, thanks," my voice was hoarse from sleep.

"Good, I didn't want to make you anything, anyway."

I looked up at her in surprise and she gave me a playful smile. "Coffee?" She asked.

I didn't really want any, but I said yes. Rose and I were really only friends through Alice so I was rarely alone with her. She made me a little nervous. I got up and took the mug from her, then poured in both cream and sugar. "Um, I don't want to keep you…,"

She waved a hand at me. "I took the day off."

"Oh," my voice was kind of high.

She smirked. "Don't look so excited."

She told me she was going to tackle some of the boxes that were still lying around and that I should make myself at home. I escaped to the upstairs bathroom as soon as I could, hoping I could evade conversation for as long as possible.

After my shower I braided my wet hair and pulled a big t-shirt over a pair of jeans. I was just starting to relax when I heard Rose's voice at the bottom of the stairs.

"Can you give me a hand with this?"

I learned after a few minutes that most of Rosalie's boxes were filled with books.

"I didn't know you read." My face flushed a deep pink as soon as the words left my mouth. "I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I'm sorry; I meant I didn't know you read _so much_. I -,"

"Bella," she rescued me. "It's ok." She sat down in front of a large bookshelf and I followed. "I used to have a lot more free time." She didn't explain further and I didn't ask.

We filled the shelves in no particular order and I thought about Edward, when he was Anthony and he helped me with my books. I remembered feeling off balance when I was near him and how I hoped he'd kiss me.

"Did Emmett ever tell you how we met?"

I shook my head and grabbed another book.

"He was helping with an expansion at the shelter. We were understaffed that day so I was helping watch some of the kids," she smiled softly. "This little girl, Clara, she got away from me and ran right out onto the construction site. I thought for sure she'd fall or be crushed by something or, I don't know, something. Anyway, I ran over and squeezed through the little gap in the fence and…he must have scooped her right up. She was wearing his hard hat." Rose was smiling full out now. "He was saying something about getting her dress dirty and she just clapped her hands right on his face and then rubbed them on her cheeks."

I grinned at that. Emmett really was such a softy when it came to girls.

"Bella…this girl, Clara, she _hated_ men, without exception."

Looking away, Rose grabbed a couple of books and shelved them. I thought maybe she was finished, but then she said, "Sometimes you just know about people." She shrugged. "And sometimes you don't." She didn't say it with any judgment, but in a way that told me she'd been there.

…

I ate with them. When Emmett brought up the police, I told him I didn't want to talk about it.

I went to sleep when they did. I woke up after they left for work.

I flattened Rose's empty boxes and stacked them together so they'd take up less room.

When Alice and Jasper stopped by, Rose covered and said _Anthony_ and I broke up and I was taking it really hard.

I showered. I watched television. I forgot about a lot of things I really shouldn't have.

A week went by.

…

My phone battery died at some point, but I'd never taken it out of my bag so I didn't know when. Emmett must have grabbed the charger from my kitchen counter because it was sitting on top. I plugged in my phone and turned it on.

When I saw my various missed calls, voice mails, and text messages, I felt a stab of guilt. It was the first thing I'd really felt all week. I listened to the first few.

_"Bells, it's me, call me back."_ My dad.

"_Bella, it's me. You need to call me back and tell me what's going on. Who is this kid? Tell me you two aren't…involved."_

_"Bella, it's me…your father, remember?"_

The texts were all of Charlie's usual dinner messages.

It was Tuesday and Rosalie and Emmett were working, so now was the best time to do this. I didn't know what I was going to tell him, or how much, but I couldn't lie. My dad could always tell and I just didn't have it in me. I was so sick of lies.

"Well, hells Bells, if it isn't my only daughter." He picked up on the first ring. "You mind telling me what's going on?" His voice carried all the worry and agitation I expected after my prolonged absence.

I burst into tears.

"Bella?...Uh, I'm not really _that_ mad." He cleared his throat gruffly. "Just, you know…concerned."

"_Dad_," I spoke through thick tears. "_Dad, I made a mistake_."

I told him about Edward and how I let him into my life without hesitation, I told him about the plan, the fake charity, and how Edward had me pinned from the start. And then I told him about how Edward confessed and how he said he couldn't do it after all. Charlie didn't buy the last part. I didn't know if I did or not.

I let him know where I was, but left out the part about my personal safety. This was big enough to take in as it was. Plus, I knew he'd just want me to fly back home; I wanted to handle whatever was left to handle on my own. I was a big girl.

…

On Wednesday, just barely over a week since I'd begun my hermitage, Rosalie started forcing me to run errands with her. Not really forcing, she just gave me a particular look and I caved.

We went to the bank and to get gas. We went to the grocery store and I helped her pick out different things to make tapas. We got coffee and pastry; we went to the store to get her a new watch battery after hers died. The only time I was ever alone now was when they were at work and even then, she checked in on me every couple of hours.

I thought it would get on my nerves, but hearing her voice was comforting. I liked knowing she was there and that she cared for no other reason than she was my friend.

The phone usually rang during the lunch hour. When it did I answered right away. "Hello?"

"Did you know that fifteen hundred sheep die every year because they fall on their backs and then can't get back up again?"

I started laughing for the first time in I don't know how long. "What? Where in the world did you hear that?"

"I read it online."

"Oh, then it must be true." I smiled.

She did that, called with random factoids or statements. Four hours prior, she called to tell me that when she was twelve she wanted to hand out flowers in the airport like the Hare Krishnas.

It was on this day that Rose left me her car. There were things I wanted to do, but ended up not doing because I couldn't stomach the idea of being out by myself quite yet. I don't know what I was afraid of, but had made the decision to trust that feeling I got every so often. It was like nerves, I felt it when Rosalie and I were out together. I had felt it before, that cold curling finger on the back of my neck, but ignored it until now. I didn't know what it meant and I wasn't sure if I wanted to find out. My whole body seemed to be on alert though it hadn't given me a reason why.

…

On Friday, we went to dinner with Alice and Jasper. We'd only met up sporadically over the last month or two and it had the feeling of reunion.

I spent most of the night on edge waiting for Alice's inevitable questions. I didn't want to lie and I knew if she pushed I'd end up telling the truth.

We made it all the way out to the parking lot before she said anything. She wrapped an arm around my waist and automatically my arm went over her shoulder. Alice was like that, touchy and affectionate. I wasn't usually, but she brought it out in me.

"I've got pitchforks and torches on standby, just so you know."

"Thanks, Alice." The thought had briefly crossed my mind, but then I would think about his face and then all my plans were in shambles. I couldn't find it in me to hate him. I should, it would probably feel good for a while, but I didn't. I think a part of me was forcing myself not to because I didn't want to feel anything too strongly. Maybe it would come later, maybe it wouldn't.

On the drive home, Emmett brought up the police again. He was very keen on this plan, but I kept saying no. I don't know why, but that feeling I was trying to trust was telling me it was a bad idea. Every time he mentioned it, even when he got so worked up that he had to leave the room, my body and my mind repelled the idea. I had to think and figure out what I was going to do soon, but I couldn't think and stay numb at the same time.

"Bells, make me understand then," Emmett was leading the way up the walk to his townhouse and talking over his shoulder. "Because I just don't get it. He was trying to con you," he paused long enough to put his key in the door. "What the fuck?"

"What?" Rose asked from her spot next to me.

Emmett reached his hand back. "Stay there," he ordered. He pushed the front door open with his foot and then waited a beat. "Stay there," he said again. He took a slow step inside, but left the light off.

Next to me, Rose started trembling and impulsively, I grabbed her hand. Together, we listened to the quiet creaks of Emmett moving around on the first floor. After a minute, I saw the shadow of him moving to the stairs. I tried to take a step forward, but Rose's iron grip held me fast.

I strained my ears, my whole body, to listen, my jaw clenched against calling for Emmett. "He's fine," I said both to myself and to Rosalie. "He's fine." She squeezed my hand tighter.

_What's going on? _The question spun on repeat in my head. _Please be fine, please be fine. _

My teeth started chattering, but not from the temperature.

A light turned on in an upstairs window and then I heard the stomping of Emmett's feet on the stairs. He flipped on both the kitchen and the living room lights before coming outside. "Alright, step carefully." He put his arm around both of us and led us inside. I noticed the front door looked funny, chipped or something.

When I saw the front room I gasped, my hand coming up to cover my mouth.

The downstairs was trashed. The couches were ripped into, the bookshelf was turned over, things were shattered, the television was face down on the floor.

Avoiding the glass from a broken lamp, I took a step around the couch I'd been sleeping on. Stretched out on what was left of the seat, was my sweatshirt. It had been my dad's and I wore it all the time. But it had still been in my bag when we left for dinner. Something seemed wrong with it, but with most of the lights broken, it was hard to tell. I leaned closer.

It was ripped. The tear started just under the neck and sliced nearly all the way down the middle. At that moment, I remembered my dad, all his fishing and hunting trips. I'd never wanted to learn about it, but some of his words stuck anyway. I looked at my sweatshirt again. It was gutted.

* * *

Author's Note: You guys are lovely :) Thanks to you and to my pre-readers, jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan, and SydneyAlice.

I don't have any news today but I wanted to say that your reactions to my note last week were freakin' hilarious. Oh, and P.S., he's officially Edward now. :)


	20. Nineteen: The People You Love

Author's Note: This chapter switches points of view, just fyi.

* * *

Nineteen: The People You Love

…

B

While Rosalie and Emmett were looking at something in the kitchen, I grabbed my ripped sweatshirt and swept it off the couch. If they saw it set out the way it was, and especially if the police saw it, they'd know it was significant.

I couldn't have that. They couldn't know. My hands shook so I stuck them in my pockets.

I was tampering with evidence now, I thought ruefully. But it was necessary.

Emmett dialed the police while Rose stood with me in the middle of what used to be the living room. My sweatshirt was now in a dark pile along with the broken glass and other pieces of their lives.

Rose kneeled down and picked up a frame. The cracked glass lay like a spider web over a picture of her and Emmett; in the photograph she was looking at him with a small grin while he laughed at something, his smile wide. She set it back down on the window sill where it belonged and kept silent. I wanted to reach out to her, but the moment had passed. I could see her armor in place and the anger replacing her fear.

I had brought this on them. It was obvious enough that this was a warning.

_Look how close I can get to the people you love_.

That's why I did it, because I had to keep them away from whatever it was Edward Cullen had gotten me into. Just thinking his name caused a new sensation to fill me. I had never in my life been a hateful person, but I could feel myself making room for it.

I didn't know who was behind this tonight, if it was him or someone he worked with. I wanted to believe it wasn't him, that maybe he didn't even know it had happened. But it wasn't an excuse. He had brought this into my life and now it was putting my friends in danger and I'd be damned if I let anything happen to them because of me.

…

E

_Bella._

I didn't know where she was. I had so thoroughly fucked everything up and now I didn't even know where she was staying. I knew she was probably with Emmett, but he was unlisted and like an idiot, I didn't wait around that night to see if they'd heed my warning and leave. My only thought had to been to get out of there because that's what I always did. I ran.

But as much as that instinct pulled me toward the door, I couldn't leave Bella alone. I went by her apartment the next night, but it appeared from the outside to be empty.

I wanted to camp out beside the building, but I was of no use to her that way. I was still on the inside; I would have to help her from here.

I needed information I couldn't get on my own. I had to know what I was up against because it had become more than clear to me that my employer had kept me in the dark.

While it was true I'd been sloppy, it could have been fixed easily enough. In this world, we used manipulation. We twisted people's words and changed their beliefs until they fit with what we needed them to be. Death had never been a part of how we operated. We kept quiet and that's how we stayed clean. My employer was breaking his rules now and I had to know why.

I showed my ID at the door and then walked into the bar, crowded even though it was a week night. I saw my old friend, if that's what he could be called, on the other side of the room, staring into an empty highball. I walked up and got the bartender's attention long enough to order a beer.

My former colleague spoke up. "Scotch, neat, he's paying for it." He pushed the used glass away while I pulled out my wallet.

Once we had our drinks, we moved away from the bar to a corner booth. "Thanks for coming, Eleazar." I said in greeting.

He grunted in response. "This is a one time only thing. I'm out, got a regular job, a lady. This isn't my life anymore." His accent was more pronounced tonight and I figured he'd been drinking for a while.

I wanted to ask him how he'd managed to leave, but didn't.

Eleazar pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his jacket pocket and dropped it on the table. "Those are the addresses I know of."

I took it, turning it over in my hands.

"He's desperate, you know. Your boss. The thing you need to figure out is why."

…

B

It took a few minutes for the police to arrive. During that time, Emmett went through the house again and Rose and I hovered around the downstairs. We didn't want to touch anything and neither of us were steady enough to be of any help.

While Emmett catalogued what appeared to be missing, my mind raced with other questions. Who had done this? Not Edward, I decided. This didn't seem like his style. Although, what did I know about that?

So, if it wasn't Edward, why bring someone else in to threaten me?

Because Edward couldn't go through with it, he'd told me as much himself. But, did I really believe that? And if it was true, was Edward gone now? Was I all alone in this?

The police got there and I don't know why I was expecting more, but I was. I had a vision of the whole station showing up, lights flashing. Maybe dogs or a helicopter too. Instead, it was one car, lights on but no siren. Two men got out and made their way up the walk, not slowly, but definitely not hurried.

I waited behind Rose, trying to decide what I was going to tell them.

…

E

Maybe I'd gone off the deep end, that's what a voice in my head was saying anyway. It went ignored as, a couple of nights later, I stood in front of my employer's home.

It was second on a list of four addresses Eleazar had provided me with. The first was a high rise in downtown Los Angeles that proved to be uninhabited, the third was in San Francisco and the fourth was out of state entirely.

I took Mulholland in the dark, following the winding road that navigated the Santa Monica Mountains. The lights were few and far between and more than once I had to pull over to make sure I hadn't gone too far. I was nearly in the Hollywood Hills by the time I found the right house.

It was small by comparison and had no gate, which would work well for me. It was deeply recessed on the property and it was difficult to tell if anyone was there. I had two options here, I could break in or I could con my employer into giving me more information. As much as I needed to know what I was dealing with, neither option sounded promising. But if I could separate Bella from this mess, it would be worth it.

God, I missed her. And the knowledge that I might very well never see her again no matter what happened was finally hitting me.

I parked several houses down and walked up to my employer's drive. It wasn't until I was a few yards in that I could clearly see the house.

It was a sprawling Spanish style home surrounded by trees with low dipping branches. There were no lights on in the front and it was almost silent except for the crickets. I slowed my pace, my hands stiff at my sides. Questions I hadn't factored in to this idiotic decision were starting to interrupt my focus, but it was too late now.

Like the former home, this one was marked by large windows that started on either side of the front door. I decided to go up to the porch to look for an alarm panel. I was good, but disarming it was above my abilities. If that was the case, I'd have to find another way. Some way with more thought put into it.

I stepped onto the tiled porch and at once, a security light flicked on.

…

B

"It looks like kids." The taller officer said. "We had another one of these about a month ago, ripped the downstairs to pieces, spray painted the walls." He shook his head in disapproval.

"Kids?" Emmett wasn't buying it.

Let it go, I wanted to tell him. As long as they didn't connect it to me, I thought they'd be safe. In this case, ignorance really was bliss.

We'd given statements and the officers had gone through the small house with those jaded expressions that said they'd seen it all.

_"Do you have any enemies? Or anyone you can think of that would do this?"_

_ "No one, officer."_

I felt like I was no better than Edward.

…

E

I took off running down the drive. This was moronic, what the hell had I been thinking? I wasn't going to get answers from the source; he'd kept me in the dark all this time and no amount of manipulation on my part was going to change his mind. He was a master at this.

"Anthony?" A woman's voice called out.

_Shit._

"Wait!" She called. "Edward?"

Hearing my real name stopped me and against my better judgment, I turned around.

Tanya was standing under the light, her arms wrapped around her middle. We regarded each other a moment, neither of us trusting the other.

She looked like hell. Her body was hunched and her hair was limp around her shoulders. When I stepped close enough to make out her face, I saw that she had the same teary expression she'd had in the fake charity video, except this time it looked real.

I still kept my distance.

Tanya rubbed her upper arms like she was cold. "What are you doing here?"

That was a damn fine question.

…

B

I had lied to the police.

They left after a while and all of our exhaustion seemed to catch up with us at once. Emmett wrapped Rosalie in a hug and I turned away.

After a minute, he pulled back. "Let's stay in a hotel tonight, yeah?"

Rose agreed so I looked around for my bag and found it tipped over on the floor. I could feel my heart pounding as I reached for it. Was something in there? I kneeled down and gripped the strap with the tips of my fingers to drag it toward me. The top was open, but I could only see fabric inside. Carefully, I reached one hand in, unsure of what I would find.

First, I felt the soft cotton of my pajamas. Deeper there was denim, my toothbrush and tube of toothpaste…

"Bells?"

I jumped back.

"Are you ok?" Emmett asked me, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"We're ready whenever you are."

"Yeah, ok, just a sec." Still mostly obscured by the couch, I grabbed my ripped up sweatshirt and stuffed it into my bag.

…

E

I walked inside behind Tanya wondering if this was a trap.

She moved slowly in the dim light until she reached the kitchen, flipping on the lights under the cabinets. "Thirsty?"

"No, thanks." I kept myself near the archway that led into the room, just in case. I waited while she poured herself a glass of wine. She took a long drink and then refilled it. "Is he here?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I don't know where he is." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Even in the warm light, she looked haggard. Her eyes were shadowed and her nose was red like she'd been crying.

_Fucking great_.

"He knows," she murmured. "He knows you want out."

"What?" I felt a deep cold from the inside out. I took a step back.

"He won't let you go, Edward." Tanya finished her glass and set it down on the counter. Her eyes were a little unfocused. "He's desperate." She grabbed her hair in one hand and pulled it up off her neck; she tilted her head to show me something so I moved cautiously forward.

"What…," I stared at the mark, studying it. It was red in some places, almost purple in others. It wrapped around the side of her neck, a painful looking handprint. "He did this to you?" My fists clenched. She might be a lot of things, but no one deserved that.

She dropped her hair back in place, covering the bruise.

"Why don't you leave?"

"He won't let me go either."

I raked a hand through my hair. I'd reached my limit. "What the fuck is going on, Tanya?" My voice rose as I continued. "He killed someone, did you know that? For Christ's sake tell me, why the hell is he so desperate?"

She'd backed up against the counter and I realized belatedly that I'd scared her. Her hands went from the tile back around herself. "He's broke."

I almost laughed. "Don't bullshit me, Tanya."

"I'm not! I heard him a couple weeks ago." Her expression went from timid to fervent in an instant. "He's not the highest there is, he has…creditors. He's been lying all this time, moving money around to cover his debts. His shell company, you know? He's been extorting from it. But now there's nothing left. He's been banking on this Swan money; he needs it. If he doesn't get it and they come to collect…," she trailed off.

I stood there, my mouth gaping. _Holy fuck_. After a second, my mind kicked back into gear. "How do I know you're telling the truth? Do you have proof?"

"I don't, just what I heard him saying -,"

"Can you find some? He's got to have something somewhere." I wanted to believe her; I could feel it like a twitch in my fingertips. I could bring him down. I could save Bella.

Her mouth opened to answer, but a pair of headlights flashed in the front windows and then turned off at the top of the driveway. "_Shit_."

"Is there a way out of here?" I asked quickly. Tanya just stared at the door, her eyes wide with fear.

I saw my employer in the first set of windows pulling a key out of his pocket.

"_Tanya_. A way out?" My voice was becoming frantic.

"Um," she blinked. "Not without him seeing you."

We both turned to the sound of the key in the door.

Suddenly, she grabbed the front of my shirt and pushed me toward a room on the opposite side of the kitchen. "I'll – I'll distract him." And with that, she disappeared back through the door.

…

B

We checked in to a small but nice hotel a few blocks away. It was typical as far as hotels went, but had a balcony with beautiful views of the ocean. A little after five in the morning, I found myself out there staring at the quiet cycle of the waves.

I wondered about Edward and how much of him was a part of Anthony. Most of him? None? I thought about the last thing he said, that he couldn't do it. Why? Mostly though, I wondered why I still missed him. It made me angry. I felt weak for him. I almost wanted to see him again just to prove to myself that I hadn't fallen. After a while I stopped thinking and just watched the water.

Emmett and Rosalie got up around nine and took turns showering. I moved around the room, but was pretty much left alone. We were all sort of living in our heads that morning.

I showered when they were done and then went back to the balcony while Emmett left to pick up breakfast. None of us were too anxious to get back to the house.

"Hey," Rose called from just inside. "Your phone is ringing."

I got up and took it from my bag. I walked back outside looking at the caller ID; it was a number I didn't recognize. Tentatively, I hit the answer button. "Hello?"

"Good morning, Isabella."

I frowned. "Who is this?"

"I'm the person that broke into your friend's house last night."

My mouth opened and I stepped back automatically.

"I wouldn't alert your friend if I were you."

"Wh – how -,"

"You're standing on the balcony right now, third floor. You walked out there at five this morning and if you do anything to draw attention to yourself or tell anyone we spoke, I'll kill your friends. Do I have your attention?"

I felt tendrils of panic wrap around my lungs and the rush of blood pulsing in my ears. My throat closed and my voice stopped working.

"You've really caused us a lot of problems, you know? It could have been so easy for you if Edward hadn't gone and grown a conscience." He paused, seemingly in no hurry.

My body shook and I grabbed the railing for balance. My eyes swept over the space in front of me. There was a boardwalk just in front of the hotel where early morning joggers ran. The beach was mostly empty, just a few people walking near the sand. There was a small restaurant next door where diners could sit outside. Is that where he was?

"We need you to do something for us, Isabella. You have a financial meeting on Tuesday, right?"

It was Saturday morning now.

"Well, you're going to go in there with a change of heart. Tell your trustees that you want to donate your money to charity, all of it. Do you understand? Nod."

Blindly I did as I was told.

"Good. One of them will have a charity in mind, agree with it. Understand? Nod."

I nodded again.

"And then we'll go our separate ways."

I got my voice back, but it didn't sound like mine. "How…how do I know you won't hurt anybody?"

"You don't." With that, the line went dead.

I stared at my phone until Rosalie asked if I was alright. I told her I wasn't feeling well and then I ran into the bathroom and retched into the toilet.

There was no doubt in my mind that whoever that was wouldn't hesitate to follow through on his threat. What I didn't believe was that he'd leave us all alone if I did what he said. This wasn't ever going to end.

…

E

I didn't want to trust Tanya, but I had to. I chose to believe she wouldn't tell me all that just to sic the wolves on me. I told myself that, anyway.

The room I was trapped in had a window on one side that I could slip through, but not without being heard. So I waited for the right moment, my back pressed to the wall, Tanya's news a shot of adrenaline to my system.

I wanted to tell Bella that it could finally be over and that she could have a normal life, but I knew she'd never see me face to face. I'd have to let her know somehow though and then I'd have to let her go.

The muffled voices of Tanya and my employer got louder; they were in the kitchen together. I forced myself to breath more slowly, afraid he would hear me otherwise.

"But I miss my little Tesla," she pouted. I could picture the face, her lower lip jutting out, big sad eyes. I wondered what she was doing.

"You'll have another soon enough. I'll buy you a dozen if that will make you happy." I heard the slightly wet noise of lips on skin.

"But how?" She sounded like a spoiled little girl and I hoped this was the actress at work.

"Leave it to me, darling. I have it taken care of."

"I wish you'd share things with me. I want to be able to help you."

I listened more closely.

There were quiet movements and fabric against fabric. "I set James loose." It sounded like he was smiling and I felt sick. "He's suggested to Miss Swan that she do as we say."

My heart beat furiously in my chest and my whole body itched to move, to hurt. My fists tightened.

"What if she doesn't?"

"The same thing that'll happen if she does."

"Hmm," she murmured something and then I heard footsteps moving away. After a second, I heard a quiet moan.

No matter what she'd done, my soul hurt for Tanya.

When I was sure she had him sufficiently distracted, I slipped out the window, closing it silently behind me.

I wasted no time. I had to get Bella the fuck away from here.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to my pre-readers! jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan, and SydneyAlice; also a big thank you to EZRocksAngel who reviewed this story on the Southern Fan Fiction Review; and to you guys, who are all kinds of awesome.

The playlist has been updated through this chapter; you can find it on my homepage if you're interested. :)


	21. Twenty: Fight or Flight

Twenty: Fight or Flight

_I grabbed my backpack and flipped it upside down, spilling out the odd notebook and other crap I kept in there. One of my pens rolled off the bed and onto the floor, I didn't notice until after I stepped on it. The plastic cracked and the ink leaked out onto the beige carpet and the sole of my shoe._

_ I didn't know how to do this. All I knew for sure was that I was eighteen and if I didn't want to be found, there was nothing my dad could do about it._

_ Going through my dresser, I grabbed some clothes and a wad of cash I kept hidden in an old sock. I couldn't think of anything else, so I zipped up my bag and walked out the door._

…

I sped back through Mulholland and down to the freeway. It was the middle of the night, but something must have been conspiring against me because there was traffic. It began to bottleneck just as I switched from one freeway to another and after a few more miles, it stopped completely.

There was an accident up ahead. I could just barely make out the lights from the police cars and the dim glow of what were probably flares. No one was going anywhere because they'd closed all four lanes of traffic. I dropped my forehead to the steering wheel.

What was Bella doing right now? I could only hope that at this hour she'd be sleeping, if she could. How afraid was she? Did she know that I would never abandon her? But there was no way for her to know that… She had to think she was all alone. I leaned my head back while my knee bounced anxiously.

My employer had set James loose. What the fuck did that mean? Where had James been all this time? And when had he _suggested_ that Bella give up her money? It was Monday night now.

I tried to get my brain to work, but I was so damn tired. I searched my mind, tried to pick out the things that were important. They were threatening her. They wouldn't do anything, not while the money still belonged to her. But they'd hurt her friends. If James was smart, that's the angle he'd take. He'd only have to say it once, put it out there, and Bella would do anything he wanted.

She'd play right into his hands. She'd give the money away. Maybe James would make it sound easy like that. _All we want is the money; give it to us and we'll go away_. Bella always saw the money as a curse; little did she know how much of a curse it really was. But what she didn't know was that they'd never let her go, not now. My employer would never have sent James after her unless he thought she'd become a problem. And if what Tanya said was true, he'd stop at nothing.

He was going to have her killed and I was stuck in traffic on the 5 fucking freeway. I slammed the heel of my hand on the steering wheel. "_Come on_."

I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to remember anything useful, but my memories only flickered on and off just outside my consciousness. When I looked up again, the accident had been partially cleared and two lanes were opened up. Slowly, we crept forward. When I passed the point of the collision, I didn't even look over. Instead I stepped on the gas.

I turned my air conditioner on. It wasn't hot, but I hoped the cold would help me focus. I thought back to the last time I saw my employer. He'd offered me two million dollars. That might have worked before I met Bella, but now…

_Two weeks_.

He'd said two weeks and it would be over. Her meeting in L.A., that's what he'd been talking about. The meeting was tomorrow. I sped up.

…

By the time I made it back to my apartment, it was nearly dawn. I went inside and grabbed a duffel bag I kept in my closet. Inside were ID's, cash, two passports, and other things that had proved useful when I had to leave quickly. I stuffed some clothes inside and zipped it up. The last thing I grabbed was the key I had to Bella's apartment. I slipped it in my pocket and left, not bothering to lock the door. I wouldn't be coming back there anyway.

On the way back down the street where I parked, I passed by my Anthony car. I wasn't going to miss that either.

I drove to Bella's and hopped the back wall near the dumpster. Normally, I would have waited for someone to leave, but I didn't have that kind of time. I moved as fast as I dared in the early light, taking her stairs two at a time. I let myself in and then paused in the entryway.

She had to be at Emmett's; I couldn't imagine him letting her go anywhere else. I wondered if she had an address book or something. Where would she keep something like that? I went to the kitchen and started pulling the drawers open. I found the one she kept papers and stuff in and dug through it. She had menus, sticky notes, pens, old mail. I went through everything piece by piece, but didn't find anything that might be Emmett's address.

I went to her bedroom and searched through her nightstand, remembering a time when I wanted her to show me what she kept in there. Now I just wanted her to make it through the day.

When that proved unsuccessful, I remembered the desk she had in the living room. She had books there, her laptop, and more paper. I went through it and finally found what I was looking for. It was scribbled quickly on a torn napkin, the word _Em_ written at the top. I grabbed it and rushed out the door.

Emmett lived in a quiet, old neighborhood. It was the kind of place where middle aged surfers were up and out of the house at dawn and the sound of the ocean put you to sleep at night. There were no driveways on this block so it was impossible to tell if anyone was home. I counted the numbers until I got to the right one. It didn't occur to me until I was staring at the tightly shuttered house that she might refuse me, or think I was coming to hurt her, but it was too late to back out now.

I strode up the walk, noticing again how closed up the house looked. If she wasn't here, I wouldn't have any idea where else to find her on my own. And I had exhausted my very few resources. She had to be here; it was Tuesday morning and I'd run out of time. I got to the door and knocked.

_Bella, I need to take you away for a while. Actually, I don't know if you can ever come back. Once I know you're safe, I'll come back and fix it. _

_ I'll try. It probably won't work. Truthfully, I'll most likely end up dead._

_ Fuck._

I lifted my hand to knock again, but I stopped when I heard the sound of the locks working. The door opened enough that I could see most of Bella's body. She was wearing those dress clothes, like the ones she wore to see her trustees. It didn't look right; she was trembling and when I could look at her face, I saw that she'd been crying.

"What have they done to you?" I asked without thinking.

Her eyes snapped to my face. "_You?_"

The force of her gaze made me stumble over my words. It took a few seconds before I could get anything out. "I need to talk to you. It's important, Bella. I have to get you out -,"

She slapped me then, fucking hard as hell.

I reached up automatically and touched my face, my jaw working.

"I should have known they'd send _you_," she said with disgust.

"What are you talking about? Someone's been talking to you?" I knew it was James, but I needed to know what he'd said.

Bella swung the door open wide and motioned behind her. "Yeah, pretty damn loud and clear, wouldn't you say?"

I stepped over the threshold and looked around. Emmett's place had clearly been broken into. There was a ripped up couch next to her and a destroyed flat screen television propped up against the wall. There were boxes filled in the middle of the room, a broken picture frame at the top of one. "What -,"

"Oh hey, what about this? This is a good one." She reached into an open duffel bag by the couch and pulled out a sweatshirt. I remembered it from the day I made her skip class and come out with me. She held it out by the shoulders. It was split open from top to bottom.

"Fuck, Bella. I didn't know. I wouldn't have stayed away. I was trying -,"

She cut me off again. "I don't want to hear it. So, are you driving then? I assume you aren't going to trust me behind the wheel."

"What are you talking about?" I should have been here, I thought bitterly. I should have never left her alone.

"My meeting in L.A? I didn't think it'd be you that was taking me though… But, I'm ready."

"Bella, I'm not here to take you to L.A. I'm…," my mind felt like it was moving in slow motion. I couldn't make the leaps I normally would have. I'd been going for too long. "Was…was someone coming here to get you?" I finally asked. Compulsively, I looked behind me.

She was looking at me strangely. "The man on the phone. He told me I had to give the money away or…," she swallowed past something. Her body had stopped shaking, but her arms were crossed tightly in front of her. "He called again and said he'd be here to get me at nine." She explained almost like she was asking me a question.

_James_.

"What time is it?"

"I don't…,"

"_Damn it, Bella_. What time is it?"

She gave me that confused look again and then looked around for her phone, which was in her bag. "It's…about ten 'til nine. Why? I thought…,"

God, I was so tired.

_Just a little more_.

"Bella, we need to go." The time for decorum was over. I reached over and grabbed her wrist, which she immediately yanked out of my grasp.

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

I made a noise of frustration. "Well I'm not asking you and I don't have time to explain. You need to come with me, now." I tried to reach for her again and failed.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She looked at me with incredulity. "I'd rather go with the other guy…at least then it'll be over," she added quietly.

"You don't mean that -,"

Her voice took on an edge. "Oh, don't I? You have no idea what you did to me. And now you're back telling me what? To trust you? _I hate you_." Her eyes watered and she let the tears fall.

I felt like I needed to do something with my hands, but I kept them stiff at my sides. "You're right, ok? You're so right, but we don't have time for this. I'm trying to fix it now and you need to come with me."

A tear slid off the edge of her jaw. "Forgive me if I don't believe you."

I lost my patience. I wanted to shake her or swing her over my shoulder and force her out of the house kicking and screaming. I wasn't above it at this point. "You think I wanted it to be this way, Bella? It was supposed to be easy. We'd get the money and you'd go on with your life and I wouldn't give a shit. That's how it works. But that's not what happened, is it?" I took a step forward until she had to look up to see me. "I fell for you, that's why everything is so screwed up and now they're coming after you and I don't have the time to sit and -,"

She opened her mouth like she was going to interrupt, but I cut her off. "_No_. I love you and I'm not about to let some fucking psychopath come in here and take you so get in the goddamn car, Bella."

She stared at me, eyes wide and confused.

I shouldn't have, but I put my hands on her, where her belt loops would be if her pants had them. "I don't have any right to ask, but…_believe this_," I begged.

Her voice was small, but she looked me right in the eye. "He's going to kill me no matter what I do, isn't he?"

It was true, but my mind wouldn't let me say it out loud.

She nodded at me and pulled out of my grasp. "Alright." I grabbed her hand and her duffel bag and ushered her out the door.

I threw her bag in the back seat and held the door open. "Lay down on the floor."

She looked at me like she was about to refuse.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Bella did as told, squeezing in until she was on her side, growing angrier again by the second. I shut the door and then got in the driver's seat. I started the engine and pulled out, trying to keep it at the speed limit. I reached behind me to grab the hat I kept in the seat pocket and I heard Bella startle. "In case we pass him. It might not hide anything, but…," I put the old ball cap on my head and lowered the bill.

I made it to the end of Emmett's block and took a left, away from the water. The streets were crowded with parked cars, but I saw James in the distance. He was stuck at a stoplight up ahead, about to pass me on his way down the street. Automatically, I pulled down on the bill of my hat again. I didn't want to scare Bella anymore than she was already scared, so I kept quiet. I slowed at the intersection; I could see him clearly across from me. I didn't think he'd recognize my car, but I didn't know for sure. I turned right, away from where he was still stopped. We were in the clear. I exhaled loudly.

"I'll stop before we get to the freeway, ok? You can get out then."

She didn't say anything, but I couldn't look back to see if she was ok.

…

Bella was in the front seat, her body positioned as far away from me as possible. She stared out the window. She hadn't spoken in three hours.

I rubbed my eyes. "Are you hungry?"

She shook her head.

"You can talk to me. I'll tell you everything if you want." I waited for her to speak, to move, to do anything. "Bella?"

"I have nothing to say to you."

…

I tried to remember the last time I'd slept or eaten, but came up empty. My stomach growled and I turned up the radio. I'd turned it on an hour prior because I couldn't stand the silence anymore.

I'd driven all day, stopping only for gas and to buy a map so I knew where the hell I was. I couldn't be sure at one point if I was even in California anymore.

And I talked to Bella. Not much, I didn't know if telling her about my life would hurt her more so I kept it light. I talked about baseball. I told her about falling off my bike when I was ten and the scar on my elbow. I told her when we passed through Phoenix. I turned south there and eventually we went through Tucson.

I stopped again to get gas somewhere in New Mexico. I bought a couple of those disgusting energy drinks. When I got back in the car, I sat heavily. The night was hot here, I wanted to blast the air and the radio, but I didn't think Bella would like it very much. I started the car and pulled out of the little roadside station.

Things here were brown and rigid. Even in the dark, I could see that the plant life was made for survival. Up ahead, a mountain jutted up sharply against the town.

"We're in Las Cruces." Bella said, the first words she'd spoken in hours. "That's Organ Mountain."

I was so surprised that she'd talked to me I couldn't think of any way to respond.

"I think you should let me drive."

I repositioned my hands on the wheel. "I'm fine."

"You've been drifting in and out of the lane for the last five miles."

Had I? I couldn't remember. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second and when I opened them again, the yellow line was firmly on my left.

"I'm less of a danger than you are right now." She persisted.

When I refocused again, I saw the yellow line was between my front tires. I pulled over on the empty interstate. "Are you sure? You can sleep if you want."

"Then that would make two of us."

Despite myself, I grinned a little. We got out and switched seats. Once she'd readjusted it to fit with her smaller stature, she got back on the road. Her driving was much steadier than mine.

"You'll wake me up if you get tired, right?" I asked.

She sighed. "Yes, Edward."

I got as comfortable as I could and closed my eyes.

She'd called me Edward.

…

When I woke up, we were in Texas and it was the very early grey of dawn. Bella had stopped at a gas station. I stretched and got out of the car; my back ached so much I thought I'd walk at an angle for the rest of my life. However long that was going to be.

Despite the cramped quarters, I'd slept deeply, exhaustion overriding comfort. I raised my arms over my head and yawned; I rolled my neck and tried to get full feeling back in my limbs. When Bella came back, a small plastic bag of junk food in hand, I made to get back in the car.

"You can drive now, if you want."

I nodded and moved out of her way. I noticed she'd changed her shoes for more comfortable ones.

When she got in and I'd started the car, she said, "I saw the money in your backpack. I didn't think you'd mind." She gestured toward the bag and raised an eyebrow in challenge.

I just shook my head.

Bella tried to get comfortable over the course of the next half hour or so, but to no avail. She pushed the seat all the way back, pulled it back up. Took her seatbelt off, put it back on. Faced away from me, toward me. After a while she gave up.

"Tell me something," she said.

I waited.

"Why me?"

I passed a sign that said we were in Austin. I tried to think of the right words automatically, but then shoved that aside and went with the truth. "I don't know how my employer picks them. He doesn't involve me until after he's chosen someone." I thought of things now, things she needed to know. "Your trustee, the redhead…Victoria, she's one of them. I think she's been in this for a while."

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her staring.

"She gave me the name of the charity, told me to get you to donate everything to it." I looked over and she was still watching me, so I kept going. "We met at your last meeting. I…I messed with your car that morning so you'd call me." I was going to start rambling soon if I didn't shut up, but I had so much to tell her.

"What if I hadn't called you?"

It was strange to me that she picked that question to ask, but I answered anyway. I told her I'd tell her everything and I meant it. "I wouldn't have gone. I didn't want to go, but I thought…I thought it was going to happen no matter what I did. I wanted to protect you as much as I could." I ran a hand through my hair. "If I was there, at least, that meant they wouldn't send anyone else."

Bella stared out the windshield, her expression thoughtful. "But they did send someone else."

I nodded bitterly. "My employer found out that I couldn't go through with it, I think…or he knows I want out or something. I'm not sure."

"How…how do you get out?"

I shrugged, trying not to show her that I was afraid. "I don't know if I can."

She was quiet for a while, when she spoke again she asked, "Will they kill you for this?"

I looked at her, wanting to tell her that it would be worth it if she could live a normal life. "Maybe."

…

Once she started talking, I didn't want her to stop. The tension wasn't eased much and some of her remarks were still cutting, but I saw her start to listen to me. It was enough.

I told her that I wanted her as far away from my employer as possible and that I was going to go back and try to fix things, somehow.

"You really didn't think this out much, did you," she commented.

I admitted I didn't know what to do from here. We'd driven nearly across the country in a couple of days. I told her, half seriously, that we could just keep driving.

"What if I just gave up the money?" She asked. "Or get rid of it or something?"

We were somewhere near Tennessee. I could see the lights of a city in the distance. "You can't do that, Bella. The money is your leverage; if it's gone…there would be no reason for them to keep you alive."

"But…my friends, my dad, they'd be safe, right?"

I wondered then if she'd talked to them at all when I was asleep. They had to be afraid for her. Had she lied? I hoped for her sake that she had. "You're not going to sacrifice yourself like that."

"We can't run forever," she said matter-of-factly. "I don't want to die for nothing."

She couldn't have accepted death so easily.

I wanted to reach over and touch her, or ground her in some way, but I knew she'd never let me. Instead I drove on.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you to my pre-readers, jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan, and SydneyAlice. And thanks to you guys, this has been a bright spot in an absolutely hellish day.

See you next week :)


	22. Twenty One: Somewhere Only We Know

Twenty One: Somewhere Only We Know

I didn't go with Edward because I was afraid. I didn't go with him because he said he loved me.

It probably wasn't smart at all and for some of the drive I thought about my sense of self preservation.

What Edward did, rushing in to protect me – even this late in the game, was brave. But I knew the running wouldn't work. The best I could hope for was that it would draw those people he worked with away from California and away from my friends. I knew the only possible ending to this story already. That's why I went with Edward.

In Rome, Georgia, he stopped at a motel.

He was clearly uncomfortable when he came back to the car after checking in. He leaned in the driver's side window, his teeth pressed into the skin of his lower lip. I thought about kissing him and how it felt, but the recollection only lasted as long as it took me to remember who he was.

"They uh, they only have one room left. We can keep looking, or driving or something…," He looked as unsure as I'd ever seen him.

"It's fine." I just wanted out of the car. Though I knew they would find us, for now I wanted to keep going through the motions of living.

Edward checked us in and then we carried our meager belongings up the rickety steps to the second floor. The room itself was clean and decorated in green and beige. The comforter was crisscrossed in a tiny paisley pattern.

Looking at it, I missed my room back home, I missed my purple bedspread, I missed my little flowers and my dad and my friends. No one knew where I was and the days were starting to run together. I'd called Emmett at some point and said I was going up to Washington to see Charlie for a while; he thought it was a good idea, but that he wished I'd told him beforehand. I confessed it was a spur of the moment decision.

I swallowed against my closing throat. My face was flushed from trying to will back the tears and I knew I had to get away from Edward, at least for a little while. I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't. I kept my bag and walked toward the bathroom.

"Going to take a shower?" I could hear him shifting around the room behind me.

I nodded and then shut the door. The fan came on automatically when I flicked the light switch and I was grateful for the noise. I turned on the water and stripped off my dirty clothes. The shower curtain was white, with that same paisley pattern as the bedspread. I got in, standing under the spray until my hair was drenched and I couldn't tell the difference between the water and my own crying.

Curled up at the bottom of the tub, I sobbed for all of it. I had let Edward in and he'd lied to me, over and over. He brought these people into my life and I hated it, all that greed. It made people do terrible things. But I didn't hate Edward, even though I'd said it. I didn't know what I felt about him. I thought I was falling in love with him before I learned the truth and I couldn't turn that off no matter what happened. I had never been in love before, but I knew it wasn't supposed to be this way.

I just wanted this whole part lifted up and out of my life. Edward and I could be together like a normal couple. We'd go places and hang out with my friends and fight about stupid things like who drank the last of the milk.

But I didn't know this person. I didn't even know if I'd fallen in love with Edward or Anthony. And it tore at my heart that I would probably never find out.

After a while, I got back on my feet and put everything aside. I washed my hair and cleaned my body and then turned off the water, dried myself, rubbed in some lotion, and brushed my teeth just like I was getting ready for bed at home.

I finally came out of the bathroom, squeezing a towel over my wet hair. The television was on to the news, but Edward wasn't watching it. He had fallen asleep, still wearing everything but his shoes. I put the towel back in the bathroom and then sat at the edge of the bed, the only one in the room. I couldn't sleep in the same bed as him.

I reached my hand out to shake his shoulder, but let it fall onto the comforter instead. What was I going to make him do, sleep on the floor? A part of my mind told me to just do it, that he deserved it. But the larger part said it wasn't right.

A crease formed between Edward's eyebrows and then smoothed out. He was dreaming. Without thinking, I raised my hand and pushed a few errant strands of hair off his forehead.

"Bella…," he murmured.

I yanked my hand back. He only readjusted so he was on his side.

He was a sleep talker, I tried not to find it endearing.

Carefully, I pulled back the blankets as much as I could and then slipped underneath them. I faced away from Edward and his peaceful expression. Sleep came fast.

…

The next day, we got a late start because neither of us was looking forward to spending hours in a car when we didn't know where we were going. We moved around each other quietly until we got on the road. Though it meant there was only about a foot of space between us, there was something about being in the car and moving that made it more comfortable to be around him.

"I was thinking…," I began, playing nervously with my hands.

Edward glanced at me.

"So…I think we should go to Jacksonville, to my mom's – my house, at least for a little while."

"Are you sure?"

I had given this a lot of thought and I figured that the house was just out of the way enough that they wouldn't be waiting there for us right away. I wanted time, just a little bit, for myself. I still couldn't even think about what I would be spending that time doing, all those goodbyes. But I didn't tell Edward any of that.

"Yeah," I told him. "I mean, I've never been there before. It seems like a good enough place. We don't have to stay long." I let my hands calm when he noticed my fidgeting.

"Alright."

…

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

We'd been driving for an hour and still had several more to go. "Tell me about…yourself." I had to try really hard not to make it sound like a question.

He readjusted his hands on the wheel. "What do you want to know?"

"Um…what were you like? Growing up, I mean." I was a little nervous to find out. I had thought about it, picturing some tragedy, something that would excuse the life he'd wound up with. In my mind, he'd been hurt in unimaginable ways.

"It was like…I don't know, it was like any normal childhood, I guess." One of his hands flexed slightly.

"Oh." I couldn't think of anything better to say.

"My parents were high school sweethearts. He coached my little league team for a while. We lived in the suburbs; I rode my bike everywhere. There was an ice cream man," he shrugged. "It was good," he said to himself. "It was really good."

I felt bad that I was disappointed by this. I should have been happy for him; his childhood sounded idyllic instead of the nightmare I'd pictured.

"No one forced me, Bella. It was all my choice."

I frowned toward my hands. I still thought there was good in him, more than he wanted to see. And I had to believe that it wasn't just something I put there.

He continued after a minute. "I was bad as a teenager. I just…I did all of it, had crappy friends, snuck out of the house, got drunk, pulled the attitude," he shook his head. "There wasn't…I had no reason for it. I just got to that age and…," he trailed off.

"Oh," I said again. I thought it might, but my belief in him didn't waver. I knew there was more to the story and I wondered if I'd ever get a chance to hear it.

"I was so stupid."

…

"So…he's broke?" I asked some time later.

"That's what she told me. It makes sense, I mean, this – with you, it's never been like this before. Well…obviously."

I let out a small and humorless laugh. We lapsed into awkward silence.

…

My phone rang in my bag. I reached back and felt around for it. When I pulled it out and read the caller ID, I saw that it was Charlie.

Edward must have seen the change in my face because he asked me what was wrong.

I shook my head and hit 'answer' on my phone. "Dad." I worked on sounding normal.

"Bells? Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. Things are…," I didn't want to say fine again. While I hadn't been hiding from his more frequent phone calls, I wasn't being forthcoming anymore either.

"Just checking in on you – you're alright?" He asked again.

"Yeah, I'm -," I caught myself.

"I've been looking into this Edward person -,"

"Dad -,"

"I know, but what am I supposed to do, Bella? You don't want to press charges, you don't -,"

"I just – I want to move on," I said feebly.

"That's insane; do you even hear yourself right now?"

"It's my choice, Dad."

On the other end, Charlie sighed. "Well…will you consider coming up here for a while?"

"You know I have school." I hadn't been to class in so long, I wasn't even sure if I was still in the program.

"The semester's almost up, isn't it?"

"Yeah…I'll…I'll think about it." I didn't want to lie to him.

I begged off after that as my composure wavered and my breath rasped.

"Hey Dad," I said at the last minute.

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, but then in a quiet voice he said, "Love you too, Bells."

I said goodbye and then dropped the phone into my lap and covered my eyes with one hand. When I was sure I wouldn't cry, I turned a little in my seat and looked out the window.

Edward reached over slowly, after a few long seconds I felt his hand cover one of mine.

…

The house in Jacksonville had two people, a father and son, that took care of it. They had the keys and when I got a hold of the father, he let me know that they were out of town, but would be back the next day. He was very apologetic, like he was afraid I might fire him for not being where I needed him. I told him not to worry and that I'd just get a room for the night.

I'm not sure what I was expecting it to look like, but Jacksonville didn't fit with the vague images I had in my head. I guess I thought it would look smaller. But it wasn't, it was big, like a bustling city with the Atlantic Ocean to the east. It was lit up as we drove through, looking for a place to stay for the night.

We found a motel, pretty basic, but still nicer than the one from the night before. It was one long building that hugged the shoreline so that you saw the water from every room. Edward checked us in and we walked upstairs; it was becoming very familiar.

The closer we'd gotten to the city tonight, the quieter Edward had become. I couldn't guess what he might be thinking, but he seemed to need some time so I let him be. When he finally spoke up in the silence of our small room, I startled.

"I don't want you to give up, Bella."

My knee jerk reaction was denial, but he wasn't buying it.

"Yes you are; you think everything will fix itself if you give them what they want." He paced closer as he spoke and it was shaking my resolve. "But…they won't let you go. And I can't, you can't -," he stopped, letting his thought trail off to somewhere I didn't think I wanted to follow.

I steeled myself despite his closeness. "I can't run forever. How long will it take, Edward? How long before they go after my friends…or my dad." I paused, my throat tight and my body heavy. "It's just me this way."

He grabbed my wrist like was going to force me to change my mind. "Well I don't accept that."

I sighed, but didn't say anything.

"Alright," he let go of me and I found I missed the touch. "If you – what do you think that'll do to them? What -,"

"At least they'll be here! I'm not taking that away from them. Should I just hide and leave them to deal with the mess?" I was losing my temper.

"They already know something, Bella. Emmett was there; he won't leave it alone."

"Then you can go back and tell them to keep quiet. That way it won't be for noth -,"

"Oh, I'm making it out alive in your little scenario?" He made a noise of frustration and rubbed a hand over his face.

"I don't _know_, Edward!" I yelled back at him. I was so far out of my depth. This wasn't something I could have ever prepared for and I was doing the best I could. But everything was so screwed up and I was so afraid.

Edward ran a hand through his hair. He mumbled something that sounded like "fuck" under his breath. Before I could think of a way to respond to that, he closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around my stiff form. We lined up perfectly and I remembered how much I liked how we fit together. He buried his face in the crook of my neck.

"God, I'm so sorry," he half whispered. "This is all my fault."

My arms were down at my sides and I fought the urge to wrap them around his middle. Fractionally, I let my head rest against his chest while I listened to his quiet voice.

"But I can't let you give up like this. You have to give me a chance to fix things. I know I don't deserve anything from you, but…_please, Bella_." I could hear his desperation and felt the sting of tears in my eyes. He pressed his lips to my temple and then murmured, "I don't want to lose you. You don't have to be with me, you just have to _be_."

I let out a muffled half sob and reached up, my hands clutching at the material of his shirt. Edward held me through my second breakdown in as many days. He didn't say anything, not even those little comforting things that people say to each other. Instead, he put a hand in my hair and pulled me closer with the other until, despite everything, I felt safe again.

After a while, I stepped back and retreated to the bathroom. In there, I went through my nightly routine and willed my heart to slow down. It wasn't right that I felt this way about him still, not after all that had happened. But I did.

I spent an inordinate amount of time changing into my pajamas and only when there was nothing left for me to do, did I walk back out.

Edward was in pajama pants and a t-shirt; he sat perched on the edge of the bed, his hands on his knees like he was about to get up. "I didn't know if you wanted the bed to yourself or…I mean, I could just -,"

"It's alright." I attempted a smile that felt uncomfortable. "I don't mind."

He looked genuinely surprised. "…I'm just going to brush my teeth and stuff then." He pushed up off the bed and moved around me and into the bathroom.

I got under the covers, pulling them tightly over me. I closed my eyes, trying to make myself sleepier than I really was. After a couple of minutes, I heard Edward come out and turn off the light. He got into bed slowly, like he was trying not to wake me. With my back to him, I couldn't really tell which direction he was facing, but I was pretty sure he was toward me. But he kept plenty of space between us. I fell asleep wishing that the space was gone.

…

When I woke up it was still dark out, but I couldn't tell what time it was because the clock was on Edward's side. Carefully, I sat up, moving one inch at a time closer to him. Once I thought I was close enough, I looked at his face to make sure he was still asleep, and then leaned over to see the time.

It was only a little after three in the morning. I forgot about trying to keep quiet and sighed at the early hour. Edward stirred next to me and I dropped back into place on my side of the bed, facing him now.

The blankets rustled next to me as he changed positions. And then I felt his hand, barely grazing, as he slipped some hair behind my ear. I knew I shouldn't, but when the heat of his fingers was gone, I opened my eyes.

He was on his side, his hand in the open space between his pillow and mine. I slid my arm up until my hand covered his. I squeezed once and then let him bring my hand to his lips; he didn't let go, instead he relaxed like he was going to sleep. It wasn't enough.

I moved closer until I was in the middle of the bed while Edward watched me with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. I wasn't really sure what I was doing either, but I could feel the heat from his body and it felt right.

"Bella," he looked wide eyed, like I made him nervous.

"It's ok," was all I could think to say.

He shook his head and kept his voice just above a whisper. "No, it's…I've never, I mean…I don't know how," he squeezed his eyes shut for a second and I felt pressure as he gripped my hand more tightly.

"What is it?" I was trying to understand what he meant. He didn't know how to what?

"I mean, I was – before – I was Anthony with you. I don't know how to…,"

I looked at him thoughtfully for a minute. "You're Edward," I said simply.

"I haven't been in a long time."

I let his hand go and pushed some hair off his forehead. "Maybe…maybe I can help you with that."

Edward smiled at me; it was hopeful and real and not like any other smile he'd ever shown me. I wanted to kiss him then, but I wasn't ready for that. For the first time though, I wanted to be ready. And I wanted to help him find that person he said he'd left so long ago. I didn't want to give up on him or myself. And as I watched him slip back into sleep I made one more decision – no matter what might happen, I wasn't going down without a fight.

* * *

Author's Note: Hi, I'm back :) Thanks to my pre-readers Jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan, and SydneyAlice; and thanks to you guys for being patient with this update and for being generally awesome.


	23. Twenty Two: My Father's Daughter

Twenty Two: My Father's Daughter

We didn't bring it up, but things were different between us the next morning. Whatever it was, it made me feel like we might really make it out of this.

I remembered Edward's smile from the previous night and all those late night things that I thought about before I finally fell asleep and I felt buoyed, like I was really fighting for something.

Edward put our things in the trunk while I checked around to make sure we hadn't left anything. When I was finished, I shut the door behind me and met him downstairs.

"Mike can't meet us with the key 'til after five," I told him as I got in the car.

Neither of us had ever been to Jacksonville, so we had no idea what to do or where to go. We ate a late breakfast at the first place we found and after that, ended up on the beach. It was only late May, but the shoreline was already crowded with tourists. We picked a spot on the sand far from the water and sat down. With the sound of the waves and the kids and the parents calling after them, it was noisy, but all the action was like a cover that gave us some semblance of privacy.

We spent most of the day there, sometimes in our own worlds, sometimes talking. I noticed that the silence was comfortable now.

I curled my arms around my bare legs; all I had left that was clean was my old denim shorts. I knew Edward liked them, or liked me in them, and I was trying really hard not to be self-conscious. When I caught him staring, I blushed.

"So, what now?" It was something we needed to figure out, but I would have asked anything to change his focus in that moment.

His gaze moved to my face and I could see his wheels turning. "I might have a way to get evidence against my employer, but…I'm not sure…," he was quiet for a minute before he started talking again. "I know a guy; he used to work with me sometimes." He eyes flickered to mine once like he was gauging my reaction.

"Anyway, he got out a while ago. He's helped me before and I think…I get the feeling he knows a lot more than he tells me. If I could go back and convince him -,"

I sat up straighter. "Go back? Can't you…call him or something?" I was prepared to do a lot of things, but I didn't want to take a risk with Edward's life, not when he was so close to getting it back.

"No, I don't have a number for him; I don't even know where he lives. I have to get a hold of this other guy in L.A. and he passes the word on, I can't do it from here."

I really didn't like the idea of going back to California with only the slim hope that some guy might possibly have information. And what if he didn't, or didn't want to help us? But if that was the only shot we had… "Alright, I think we should fly back though. We can keep the car at the house. Do you -,"

"Wait, wait, wait - what do you mean we?" He shook his head. "You're not going anywhere near California until this is over." He made it sound so final.

"No way," I dug my heels in, "if you're going then I'm going."

I watched his small gestures of frustration and the way he clenched his jaw while he tried to come up with an argument that would make me listen. "Bella…,"

He slid over so he sat perpendicular to me, one of his legs stretched behind my back; I was almost in his lap. When I was able, I looked at him. His expression was no longer commanding, but pleading.

"I can't make you, but _please_, Bella. Just stay here. I've lived in that world for a long time, but you haven't. I can make it out again." He reached out slowly; I thought he was going to touch my face, but he only took one of my hands. "A few days, alright? When it's safe, I'll come back for you. Please? I'll let you tell me what to do for the rest of my life," he added with a small grin.

I'm not sure he realized what he'd said just then. But regardless, I still didn't like this. "I still don't like this." I rested my chin on my knees. A part of me was saying I should ignore him and go along anyway, but the logical part of my mind was saying that I would probably end up doing something to get him in trouble. All I needed to do was be seen by the wrong person. I let both sides battle it out while Edward waited, his face tense. Eventually, I relented.

"Promise me you'll be careful."

"I will," he said it without hesitation.

I readjusted so I was facing him; we were almost nose to nose. "I'm serious, Edward."

He leaned forward until his forehead touched mine. I closed my eyes, remembering the gesture and I wondered if it meant as much to him as it did to me.

"I promise."

I wanted to memorize this. I wanted to tuck it away and keep it forever.

My phone rang.

Edward pulled back with a half smile while I pulled my phone from my front pocket. It was Mike; I knew he was calling to tell me he was headed toward the house. I talked to him for a minute, just long enough to tell him we were on our way.

Edward drove a few miles up the coast. Renee's house sat along the shore and that was all I knew about it. She'd sent me a picture once, but all I could remember was the water and beach grass.

"Eighteen forty three…that one," I nodded toward the large home. It was beautiful, I had to admit. It was the color of dark sand, two stories, and had huge bay windows to showcase the view. Regardless, it was difficult to acknowledge that it was mine.

Mike was waiting out front. As we parked, I saw him finger combing his hair.

"Miss Swan!" He smiled as he said hello. "It's nice to finally meet you in person." He shook my hand, sandwiching it with both of his. He didn't let go until I slipped my hand out myself.

The attention was making me feel awkward and I stepped back. "This is Edward, Edward this is Mike, he takes care of the house with his son."

They were friendly enough, but I noticed Mike putting more force behind his handshake. I rolled my eyes.

After some idle chit chat, Mike handed over the spare set of keys. "Keep 'em…and let me know if you need anything."

I told him I would and we said our goodbyes. Edward chuckled as we finally walked inside.

"What?"

"He likes you."

I ignored his comment and walked slowly through the house. The furniture was covered and everything was cleaned to a high shine. The floors creaked lightly under my feet and the windows let in the afternoon sun. It wasn't what I expected. I pictured something sleek and ultra modern, but this looked like it had stood here for the better part of the last century. I could hear the sound of the waves outside and I thought to myself that I might actually like this place.

…

"Can I ask you something?" I asked. We'd uncovered the couches in the living room; I was on one and he was on the other.

"Anything."

"Why do you call your boss 'my employer'?"

He seemed a little confused by the question. "Because that's what he is."

"No, I mean, I've heard you say it a few times. Why don't you just call him by his name?" I sat up, tucking my legs underneath me.

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. I watched him while he watched the floor. "That's what I've always called him. I guess it never occurred to me that it sounded…weird."

I just shrugged.

"I don't know his real name."

That didn't seem right to me. "But…you said you've worked for him for years."

"When I first met him, he called himself Marcus. The first time he…took me out, the credit card he put down said Aro something. He's used Demetri, Alec, Felix, a couple more." He shook his head, but didn't lift his gaze from the floor. He looked ashamed.

"Hey," I said softly. When he made no movement, I stood up, wanting to give him a minute.

I didn't know he'd gotten up too until he was right behind me. He slid his fingers around my forearm, his thumb brushing back and forth once before he let go. "Thank you."

I wanted to say something flippant to lighten the mood, but I couldn't so I didn't say anything at all.

Eventually, we found ourselves in the kitchen, going through the empty cabinets. "I don't know why I thought there'd be food here." I opened one last cupboard, just to be sure. I was hoping maybe Mike kept a few things here for when he was working.

"I'll just go get something." He reached into his pocket for his keys.

"You don't know your way around."

"I'll figure it out." He gave me a small smile. "Feel like something big or something small?"

I pretended to think about it. "Something big."

"I don't know why I even asked." He grinned at me again before walking out the door.

…

While Edward was gone, I made my way through the rest of the house, peeking under dust cloths as I went. I didn't think I'd stay here after he left; it didn't really feel as safe as I'd been hoping. For now, it was just one more thing on the list of things we had to talk about.

I thought maybe I'd get a hotel room or something, but for the next couple of days this would do.

After a while, I went out onto the deck. The sun was just touching down on the water and I watched the way it made everything change color. I didn't even feel myself fall asleep.

_"Bella." The voice was quiet, like a whisper._

_ No, I thought. It was so nice and warm until I heard that voice. I shivered, curling up tighter. _

_ On the second try, it was louder. "Bella, wake up."_

I sat up straight in my chair as if from a nightmare. Looking around, I saw that I was alone though I'd been positive someone had just been there. I hadn't seen anyone, just felt them.

I rubbed my eyes and tried to clear the cobwebs from my mind. It was a dream, I realized belatedly.

I sat there for a couple of minutes, trying to slow my heartbeat. The sun was about halfway down and the evening was getting chilly. Reflexively, I rubbed my arms. It was quieter now too, most of the tourists had retreated indoors. How long had I been asleep? I didn't wear a watch and my phone was still in the kitchen along with our bags. I stretched my back and then stood up and stretched again, feeling stiff from my nap. The breeze kicked up as I opened the door to walk inside and I felt it on the back of my neck.

My phone was buzzing; I could hear it on the counter in the next room. I grinned to myself, figuring it was Edward calling to say he was lost or something. He'd been gone for a while. Hurrying the last few steps, I reached out to grab it off the tile.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

I froze.

"Put your hands up and turn around."

For those few seconds, I couldn't think; I could only do what he told me. It was the man from the hotel, I recognized his voice. This was the same man who said he'd kill my friends. He'd found me too fast.

"So you are capable of following directions. Good, let's go." He grabbed my arm. His strides were much longer than mine and I tripped twice on the way to the door. Both times he didn't look back; instead he only pulled harder, dragging me up off my knees. I could feel my shoulder wrenching with the effort and I prayed he wouldn't dislocate it.

When I saw the car my brain kicked into gear.

_"Are you listening, Bella? I'm serious." My dad looked up from his dinner long enough to give me The Look._

_ "Yes, Dad." I sighed back at him._

_ "What did I say then?"_

_ Most of the time, being the police chief's daughter didn't bother me, but other times… "Never let them take you to the second location," I mumbled, glad it was just the two of us at the table._

_ "Good, pass the potatoes."_

I started resisting before I realized that's what I was doing. I locked my muscles and dug my feet in until the man turned around.

My mouth opened, but my throat was thick with tears.

The man stepped so close I could feel his hot breath on my face. His grip on me tightened and his voice was low and sharp. "You're not going to fight me, you know why?" He didn't wait for me to answer. "If you try to run, I'll kill your boyfriend."

I stared, my eyes wide.

"Want to test me?" He dragged me across the street to the car while I searched frantically, looking for anyone that might see us. The street was empty.

He stuck a key in the trunk's lock and popped it open. Panic raced in my veins; I wanted to scream, but I couldn't get my voice to work. All I thought was - I couldn't go in the trunk.

He pushed me with his free hand and when I wouldn't budge, he grabbed my hair and shoved my head down into the dark space.

_Edward_.

His face was bloodied, but he was conscious. When he saw me, he screamed behind the tape covering his mouth. Instinctively, I reached out for him, forgetting about the grip the man had on my hair. He yanked back so hard I felt strands rip out and something tear in my neck. He slammed the trunk shut and wheeled me around to face him. "Still want to fight me?"

I shook my head no in short, jerky movements.

He swung the passenger door open and I fell inside. The door slammed hard, barely missing my right leg.

I watched the house get smaller in the mirror as we drove away.

We turned onto streets I didn't recognize and I realized that I had no idea where he was taking us.

I was too afraid to wipe my face, so I let my tears fall.

_This isn't happening_.

I stared down at my feet, helpless.

_"The most important thing you have to remember is – don't panic."_

_ "Dad, the game is about to start."_

_ He ignored me. "You've got to keep a clear head. If you panic, they have control."_

_ "Dad."_

_ "Fine, fine."_

I had to think. This was happening and I had to do something to get us both out of here. There was just enough light left that I could see we'd left the city; there wasn't much time.

If I tried to run, he'd kill Edward. If I tried to fight him, he'd kill me. No, that wasn't right. If he wanted me gone, he would have just done it already. I still had the money which meant I still had leverage. They needed me.

"You're a lot tamer than I thought you'd be." The man commented. He pulled onto a frontage road. There were no cars in either direction and there was nowhere to hide.

The man kept talking, but I wasn't listening. Instead, my eyes swept the car's interior for something, anything, that I could use. But when he said a name I recognized, I stopped searching.

"– I had to hand it to her, she was a fighter."

"What?" I said it before I could stop myself.

He didn't look at me, just smirked like he knew he'd hit a nerve. "Your friend, Kate."

I clenched my shaking hands in my lap. "Kate?"

He grinned again. "I said she put up a fight - at first."

My heart pounded, pumping adrenaline through my body.

He'd killed her. He'd killed my friend.

I felt my fear bleed out into anger. And that's when I saw it, the pen, sitting on the floor next to my feet.

_"It's best to aim somewhere soft – the eyes and…you know, the gr -,"_

_ "Dad!" I put my hand up to stop him. "I've got it."_

_ "You can never be too careful, Bells."_

_ I snorted. "We live in Forks, Dad."_

I leaned forward, my head between my knees. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Well, get over it, I'm not stopping."

I took a deep breath and with an unsteady hand, I grabbed the pen, slipping it under my thigh. I pressed the cap off and then sat up, leaning my head back like I really was going to be sick.

I thought of Edward. I thought of Emmett and Rosalie and Alice and Jasper.

I thought of Kate. I thought of my dad.

It was getting dark and I had no idea where we were going. I had one shot at this.

My hand gripped the pen so tightly I thought I might break it. I closed my eyes and pictured the man sitting next to me, the way he was positioned in his seat. His right arm was near the top of the steering wheel, leaving his side open.

I needed to get him out of the car.

My body shook as I opened my eyes. He wasn't paying any attention.

As fast as I could, I twisted in my seat and jammed the pen hard into his side, right under his ribs. I felt the change as it broke the skin.

"_Fucking bitch!_" Reflexively, he took one hand off the wheel and yanked the pen out. He grunted and turned in his seat; the car swerved dangerously close to the ditch along the side of the road.

His right hand fisted, but I was faster.

_It's best to aim somewhere soft_.

I hit him, as hard as I could, right where I'd just stabbed him. His hissed in pain and doubled over, one hand still reaching for me. In the commotion, his knees hit the wheel, the motion slamming me back against my door.

"_I'm gonna fucking kill you." _

I brought my feet up and kicked, connecting with his face, but he came after me anyway, relentless. Both hands came up around my neck while I fought against him uselessly. I tried to scream, but it stuck in my throat. I couldn't breathe.

I felt a hard bump as the car hit dirt. We were veering toward the ditch.

_Oh God, Edward, please be alright_.

I hit, scratched, kneed him in the side, the stomach, anywhere. I was starting to see spots.

With the last of my strength, I kicked at him, but my foot hit the wheel instead. The force of it spun the car. I could hear it screech and strain against the road and then we were airborne.

And then nothing.

…

At first, I only smelled exhaust and burned rubber.

I was lying against the door.

My head started to throb and I tasted something salty and metallic.

I opened my eyes. The man was unconscious, half out of his seat because of the angle we were at in the ditch. He was leaning down toward me.

Carefully, I pulled myself up as far as I could. I could feel broken glass all around me from where my window had shattered. It was just far enough from the ground that I could squeeze out.

I kept my eyes on the man and slid out of the car backward, letting myself fall the foot or so to the ground. He didn't budge.

When I was clear, I scrambled to the trunk. I could only hope I could force it up without the key. Fortunately, the crash had dented its corner and popped it partially open, but it was warped at an odd angle. I pushed my hands into the space, trying to pry it up further without making any noise. The metal groaned in protest.

"_Edward_," I half whispered. "Edward, are you alright?" I wiped away tears as everything caught up to me.

I got down on my knees and kept fighting with the trunk. "_Edward, please_," I cried out in frustration. "Edward, _please_, I can't do this by myself."

I repositioned my hands and pushed up on the trunk again and that's when I felt him touch me. "Edward?" I reached my hand in and he pressed his face against my fingers. I felt tape and I grasped it. "I'm sorry." I ripped it off quickly.

He released a heavy breath. "Bella."

"Edward, are you alright? I can't get this open." I couldn't see him in the darkening night, but it sounded like he had fallen to one side because of the way the car was leaning.

"On three, ok?" His breathing sounded labored and I wondered how hurt he was.

We counted and then pushed at the metal. Finally, it gave way a few inches, and after another second, it gave way a few more. It was light enough now that I could see Edward; he was on his knees, his back pressed to the trunk lid. His hands were taped behind him and his body was shaking.

"Edward," I reached in and tried to get a grip on him to pull him out.

"You're bleeding," he said in a small voice.

"I'm fine." I took his hands to rip the tape off of them.

"I hate it when you say that."

I gripped the tape between my fingers.

"Bella_, look out!"_

Something hit me so hard it took my breath away. I gripped my stomach and dropped to my knees, bracing one hand on the ground. It was a white hot, burning pain. I couldn't see; I couldn't even think. I was going to be sick.

I coughed once and gasped for air, when it came, my body took it in greedily.

That's when I realized there was something going on next to me. Edward was yelling. Slowly, my senses started coming back to me. I heard the rough sounds of him being dragged out of the trunk.

"I'm gonna kill you if it's the last thing I do. That's a fucking _promise_, James."

I stayed down, but opened my eyes just in time to see James standing over Edward's prone form. His hands were still taped and I saw now that his feet were too. James just stood there for a second, his head cocked. He was hurt; I could tell by the way he was favoring his left arm. His face was cut and bruising

He pulled a gun out of the waistband of his jeans and pointed it right at Edward. "I've had enough of this shit."

I didn't think about what I was going to do at all. I was on my feet and running before James even noticed me. I barreled into him with everything I had left.

The gun fell to the ground and we both scrambled in the dirt for it. I threw myself over it and felt the cool barrel underneath me. I flipped over onto my back and raised the gun.

_"You live in a house with guns, Bella. You need to know how to use them and take care of them."_

_ This was a little more interesting than my dad's many lessons in self defense._

_ "Alright, this one?" He lifted a small black pistol._

_ "Nine millimeter, semi-automatic."_

_ "Very good."_

I knew this gun. It was just like one Charlie owned. It had a front and rear sight, a redundant safety, and carried 15 rounds; I could take it apart and put it back together again if I had to.

I pulled the slide and flipped the safety off.

James was a few feet away. He got to his feet and I knew right then that he wasn't ever going to stop. He gave me a look that said - _you don't have it in you_.

I took aim.

I pulled the trigger.

* * *

Author's Note: Many thanks to my pre-readers - jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan, and SydneyAlice. And thanks to all of you :)

As it stands, there are four more chapters and an epilogue, in case anyone is wondering.


	24. Twenty Three: Coming Clean

Twenty Three: Coming Clean

I must have been worse off than I thought because I'd swear I could hear Bella's friends, or at least Emmett, yelling outside my hospital room. But that wasn't possible since we were still in Florida. Weren't we? Where was Bella?

…

_She dropped the gun like it burned her. At first, she only stared at James' body on the ground. I saw that she'd hit him square in the chest. I had this fleeting thought that I didn't even know Bella could use a gun._

_ The blood pooled and soaked through his t-shirt, the stain growing by the second. _

_ When I looked up, Bella was shaking._

…

How much time had passed? Where was she? Whatever they had me on here was fading. My head pounded an uneven rhythm; even the pillow hurt.

"_Christ_, Bella, what the hell were you thinking?" Emmett's voice again. It carried as the door swung open and a nurse walked to my bedside. She said something that I wasn't listening to and then pushed something into my IV, all business. My eyes closed.

…

_"Bella?" I'd managed to rip the tape on a sharp edge of the crumpled trunk and now I worked on freeing my legs, my eyes on her trembling hands._

_ Her mouth worked. "I…s-s-shot him." I could see the rapid rising and falling of her chest even from my spot yards away. _

_ I threw the last of the tape to the side and tried to get up, but pain shot through my right leg and I stumbled. Fuck, it hurt. I got up again, balancing on my left side. "Bella?" I said again. I wanted her away from here; I didn't want her to see this. But there was no place for us to go anymore._

_ Before I knew what she was doing, she moved over to James' lifeless form. Her back was to me, but I could see her hands hovering over the wound._

_ "Bella don't -,"_

_ "I didn't mean – he was -," she mumbled something I couldn't hear. _

_ I hobbled over, not fast enough to stop her from pressing her palms against his bleeding chest._

…

Bella was here. I felt her fingers through mine. I was just so tired.

…

_"Bella don't," I told her again, lowering myself to the ground behind her. I tried to put my hands on her, but she yanked herself free._

_ "He's not dead. He can't be, I didn't mean to -," she pressed her hands down on James' chest hard, like she could stop the blood that was seeping between her fingers. I looked at his too pale face and the stillness of his chest. _

_ I took her arms and gently pried her away._

_ She fought me. "I can save him!" _

_ I saw the blood on her hands and she struggled to pull free and it broke my heart. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her back into my chest._

_ She screamed at me, but her pushes and shoves didn't work and I just held her tighter. Finally, she stopped moving and fell into me. She tucked herself into a ball and sobbed into my shirt, her cries echoing in the too quiet night._

…

I squeezed her hand, wanting to let her know I was awake.

"Edward?" She said in a small voice.

I swallowed hard, the inside of my mouth felt like sand. I had to swallow again before I could say anything.

"Bella."

…

_The police came; I had to pull James' cell phone out of the wreckage of the car. Bella clung to me and I held on to her. _

_ They set up lights that hurt my eyes, my head, everything. _

_ At some point, Bella got sick, but I couldn't remember if that was before or after the police arrived. I pulled her hair out of the way and rubbed her back. She said she was sorry. _

_ The dirt was starting to mix with the blood on her hands. I was starting to have trouble focusing. I forced myself._

…

She gave me a weak smile. "Are you really awake this time?"

"Was I awake before?" I tried to search my memory, but everything was hazy.

"Earlier this morning, but you've been sedated."

I felt like there was a delay between my brain and my mouth; I had to lay there for a few seconds before I knew what I wanted to ask next. "Are you alright?"

Bella had a bruise on her cheekbone and a burst blood vessel in her left eye. When I looked down at the hand that was holding mine, I saw that it was wrapped up to the wrist.

She nodded. "I'm…I'll be…," she shrugged. "I'm really tired."

I tried to get her to get up on the bed with me, but she didn't want to. Instead, she pulled her chair closer and rested her upper body next to my legs, almost out of my reach. I shifted experimentally, stretching my hand to her hair. I pushed a loose piece behind her ear. Her eyes closed.

"You're the bravest person I've ever met." I said quietly.

A tear slipped sideways down her face and into the blanket. "I killed someone last night."

…

I found out that Emmett and Rosalie were Bella's in case of emergency contacts, which was why they were here. They'd taken a red eye flight and come straight to the hospital.

Other than some cuts, bruises, and a serious neck and wrist sprain, Bella was fine physically. In all the other ways, it remained to be seen. I could tell that she was retreating and I wanted more than anything to help, but I was stuck in this bed and nothing I said seemed to do any good.

My leg was broken, but that was the worst of it. I had some bruised ribs and other things, but I couldn't give a shit when I saw Bella's vacant expression.

I hadn't spoken to the police yet and I didn't want to wait any damn longer. It was my fault and it was about time it all caught up to me. I'd remember her face and all the things I did to get us here for the rest of my life.

…

Sometime that morning or afternoon, Bella slipped into my room. She made sure the door shut completely behind her before she took her seat next to the bed. When she looked at me, she had life in her eyes again. It should have been a relief, but instead I felt dread.

She sat back and then readjusted, leaning toward me. "The um, the police want to talk to you."

I only nodded, expecting it.

Bella looked back once like she was checking for other people. "I have a plan."

"What?"

"We can leave you out of the whole thing."

"How…," I tried to think about it. "How is that even possible?"

"I'll say it was…that it was him. He was following me, right? I'll say he wanted the money the whole time. I can leave you out."

_No_, my mind repelled the idea, but I had to know more. "What about your friends? Your dad? They all know, don't they?"

"My dad doesn't even know I'm in Florida. And Emmett and Rose…they wouldn't…they just, they won't say anything." She looked at me in earnest. "It can work, Edward. It _will_ work."

I couldn't look at her face, so I focused on where her hands were holding the blanket, all nerves and tension. She was willing to lie to the police for me. Bella, the woman that had never skipped a class in her life until I came along, was going to lie to protect me. She was still trying to save me.

I thought about it, what it would be like if I listened to her. We'd be free, both of us. I could start over as myself. Bella would go back to school. I'd be near her. And the mess I'd made of my life would be over.

A clean slate.

I could feel the anticipation of telling this lie with her. This was what I did for a living. She came up with the story, but I could shape it and make it work.

I ran my fingers over the back of her hand. "I can't let you do it."

She pulled her hands away. "Why not?"

There were so many ways it wouldn't work, but most of all, I knew she could never live with it if I let her lie for me. She was too good, she meant too much.

"Because I love you."

…

**B**

_There was so much blood. It was on my hands and my shirt, my knees, my hair. Everywhere I touched it spread._

_ There were EMT's here and police. All the flashing lights made the blood look almost purple._

_ I nudged Edward, but he was barely responding. I couldn't stop my teeth from chattering. What had James done to him? What had I done? _

_ They put James on a gurney and when he was out of my field of vision, I stared at the red-brown pool on the ground._

…

I had to think about something else, so I came up with the lie. I knew it was a weak one, but I so wanted everything to be alright again. It might not have worked, but I would have tried.

The police were in with Edward a lot longer than they were with me. I sat in the hall until a nurse made me move, then I went to the waiting room, but I couldn't stand to be there all by myself. With one more check of his room, I made my way to the cafeteria where I knew Emmett and Rose were.

The police knew Edward had also gone by Anthony before they even got to me. They wanted to ask more questions about that than anything, but I remained obstinate, if curious about what they knew. I tried to only talk about what happened in Florida and pled ignorance to a lot, which wasn't a lie. I told them Edward had taken me away to protect me, and that he wasn't the real danger. But when they asked me if I knew the name Anthony Masen, I had to tell them the truth.

Edward was right; it was the only way this would finally be over. But I still felt sick. I still wished I was different, that I could say all those things I told him I would. Now I didn't know what would happen to us.

…

_I was sitting at the open doors of an ambulance. The police were asking me things while the EMT's worked around them. I'm fine! I wanted to yell at them, but nothing inside me was connected to anything else. It was the only way I could describe it._

…

I saw Emmett first, picking at something on his plate. He glanced up, frowning when he saw me. I wasn't his favorite person right now. I wasn't mine either. Despite that, I sat down across from them both.

"Got a new story for us?" He asked sharply.

I just shook my head, swallowing hard. "I told them the truth."

Emmett looked like he was debating on whether or not I was lying.

"They might want to talk to you," I directed at him.

"Great," his tone was thick with sarcasm. "You know, Bella -,"

"Emmett." Rose warned.

He dropped his fork. "Yeah…I need some air." He got up and left without another glance.

Rosalie spoke up first after several awkward seconds. "He just needs some time."

"Why aren't you mad too?" I knew I was pushing my luck, but I had to know.

She just shrugged. "Well, I think running away was stupid, but…you did what you thought you had to do."

I wanted to grab her hand or something, but Rose wasn't affectionate with anyone but Emmett.

"But, yeah, it was really stupid."

…

I called my dad, prepared for almost every reaction except the one I got.

First, he asked if I was alright and then he didn't say anything for a long time. After a few tense minutes, he finally spoke. "Why didn't you come to me?"

How could I ever explain this? "I'm sorry, Dad. I thought…I just -,"

"It's always been you and me, Bells."

I felt heavy from the weight of his disappointment. "I was trying to keep you safe. I -,"

"You lied to me."

He was hurt. My shame lingered like an extension of myself.

"You were never a liar until you met this boy."

"It wasn't him, I -,"

"Don't you make excuses for him, Isabella Marie." He snapped. After a second, he released a low breath into the phone. "Are the police in with him now?"

"Yeah."

"Have the FBI gotten there yet?"

"I – what?" Something inside me ran cold.

"You know this isn't a local police issue, right? This is fraud, Bella."

This was too big. "The FBI?"

"He'll probably get sent back to California," he added. "This is going to get a whole lot worse for him." He said it with satisfaction.

We talked until my phone started beeping at me. It was hard, but I answered every question. He knew which ones to ask, how to ask, and when to back off; I felt like he was interrogating me. Which I guess he was.

I could almost see him rubbing his eyes; I'd aged him at least ten years I was pretty sure. I expected a terse goodbye, but instead he said, "I'm sorry this happened to you, Bells."

…

"_Do you know this man?"_

"_Where was he taking you?"_

_ I saw his body on the ground again, his pale mouth, and that unnatural stillness that happens when someone isn't breathing. I saw the shape of him in the body bag before they closed the ambulance doors._

_ "I can't breathe." I stood up, my heart racing. The ground tilted up sharply._

_ "She's having a panic attack."_

_ "Ask your questions later."_

_ "She's in shock."_

_ I heard them, but I couldn't put the voices to any of the faces. There were just hands, hands by my face, flashing something in my eyes, touching my wrist. _

_ And there was James in that body bag. And the blood._

…

I waited with Rose in the hall for a long time. Emmett still hadn't come back from wherever he'd gone, but I didn't blame him. He was still around, which was more than I'd hoped for.

Rose was quiet while I told her about the conversation with my dad. She didn't offer any advice because there wasn't any to be given, but she didn't put blame anywhere either.

"I know you love him," she said when I asked her again about her lack of judgment. I think I wanted her to be angry. "Look, Anth- Edward started out one way, but he's not in the same place now. You think he would have done all this if he only cared about the money?"

I was watching Rose while she spoke, but then, I noticed two people past her near the intake area. Two men, both in suits, strode down the hallway like they knew exactly where they were going. They reminded me of the detectives I'd seen on campus with Garrett. Except I knew they weren't detectives.

The taller of the two spared me a quick glance before following the other into Edward's room.

"It'll be fine," Rose said quietly.

I really wanted to believe that.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you to my pre-readers and my present readers :)

As a point of interest, I was recently caught up in an attempted con. Yep, that's right. I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not. Unfortunately, I didn't realize it until about halfway through (it was over the course of the last four weeks), which is far enough that it might cause problems for me. I'm not really sure yet. Mostly right now, I'm mad. Not furious kitten mad, but do someone serious bodily harm mad. Anyway, does this count as irony, or is it just an unfortunate coincidence...


	25. Twenty Four: The Meeting

Twenty Four: The Meeting

Within a dizzying few days, we were all back in California. Rosalie and Emmett were allowed to return home, though they were going to be tailed by a police officer for at least the next few days. Emmett was talking to me again, for the most part. I didn't blame him for being angry, but I just wished this part was over. For now, I was giving him some space.

It wasn't difficult. Edward and I were taken to a hotel deep within the heart of Los Angeles so he could keep his end of the deal with the FBI. I was there because it wasn't safe for me anywhere else.

Sitting there the first night in that hotel room, I made a decision. I only told one person, the agent assigned to babysit me, to make sure it wouldn't cause any more problems.

"I wouldn't advise that you do it now." He told me. "I suggest you wait until this plays out; make the decision then."

I sat uncomfortably with my forced companion at a table in the hotel room, waiting for Edward because today was the last day no matter the outcome. I took a sip of my bitter coffee and couldn't quite cover the face I made. "I'm not going to change my mind, Agent…," I stumbled mentally over his name.

"Stefan is fine, Cantacuzino is a mouthful."

I nodded. "And the other one is Agent…Dalakis?"

He looked at me over his mug before setting it down. For just a second, I thought I saw him smirk before he took a huge bite of room service scrambled eggs. "His first name is Vladimir, but he goes by William."

He reached over to a little bowl and pulled out two creamers; he dropped them on my plate before standing up. "For the coffee."

Once he left, the stillness of the room reminded me that I was stuck here. And as hour after hour passed, the little space filled up with everything I was trying really hard to box away.

I'd killed someone.

Swiftly, I got up and left the room.

Edward was next door and I knocked reluctantly, knowing the grim face of Agent Dalakis would be on the other side.

"Why am I not surprised?" He asked rhetorically, giving me enough space to pass him.

"In there," he gestured toward the bedroom. Stefan and several other people I'd never seen before were setting up equipment in the sitting area. But even something that tangible didn't seem real to me.

It wasn't until I saw Edward that I convinced myself that all of this was really happening and that I wasn't simply stuck in some Purgatory. Now though, as much as I hated it, I was terrified that the waiting was finally over.

Edward stood in front of the dresser mirror, pulling an undershirt over his head. My pulse pounded in my fingertips, everywhere, as I watched him finish. When I couldn't take it anymore, I stepped through the doorway. "Edward?"

His eyes flickered over to mine, but his expression remained serious. I had no idea what he might be thinking.

I took a few more steps into the room, hoping to find a way to delay things. He slipped a shirt on and I reached for it. He looked at me again, his gaze softening. I started at the top button, looping it through the hole with shaking hands. I went to the next, and the one after that, feeling the way he watched me.

When I finished, he kept his hands at his sides. Something about that disappointed me.

I heard him open his mouth, but it was another few seconds before he said anything. "Bella...I have some things I wanted to tell you…I don't know if -," his voice caught and he had to start over.

"I don't know how…I don't know what's going to happen -,"

"Don't," I interrupted him sharply, the quick heat of my anger momentarily overshadowing everything else. But just as fast as it appeared, it faded, leaving me afraid once again.

"Bella," he sighed.

"I swear, if you try to say goodbye, so help me Edward -," I tried to think of something appropriately threatening, but came up empty.

His answering smile was soft. "Alright." Using one hand for balance on the dresser, he pulled me into his body with the other. He smelled like clean clothes and Edward and even though it was just a hug, I could still feel him saying goodbye. It was in the way he pressed his face into my neck, the way he lingered, and a thousand other things I might never have caught if I didn't already know what he was doing.

When he pulled away, I let impulse steer me. I kept my hands on his shoulders, stretched up on my toes, and kissed him. At first, he froze. But it only took a second for him to respond. When I felt the slight tilt of his head and parting of his lips, I wrapped my arms around him. This kiss wasn't a goodbye, it was a promise.

I tried to pull away when I heard a loud throat clearing from the doorway, but Edward held me to him so I could only half turn toward the sound.

"Time to head out." Agent Dalakis stepped back through the doorway to the sitting area.

Edward kissed me again, but on the forehead this time. I saw him swallow hard. "I'll…I'll be back in a little while."

I nodded, something sticking in my throat. "Be safe."

When he walked out, still getting used to the crutches, I sat on his bed. I couldn't listen to their directions and all those scenarios they were preparing for.

I waited until I heard the click of the door before I stood up, inching closer to the FBI agents in the other room. There were two new ones that I didn't recognize, one on the phone, one staring intently at a computer screen; he wore headphones. I stayed just out of sight, watching them work.

After a couple of minutes, one of the agents mumbled, "Alright, he's in the cab."

Dalakis nodded toward the couch; apparently I wasn't as well hidden as I thought. When I was seated, he turned away from the rest of the group. "I hope you know what you're doing."

I knew what he was talking about, but still I asked, "What?"

He gave me this look – _you stupid kid_. "You don't know him, Miss Swan."

There was a rush of heat as I felt new anger simmering under my skin. I knew it was part of the price I was going to pay to be with him, but it was my choice to make.

"Neither do you."

…

**E**

"Wait," I heard myself saying. After a pause, I started making promises I didn't think I could keep. I'd gone in with the intention of giving myself up and so I told the agents everything; it wasn't until I was nearly finished that I realized I couldn't go through with it. It was selfish, but I wanted it all – to stay out of jail, to start over, and to be with the woman I loved more than anything.

So I said to the two FBI agents standing in my hospital room, "I can help you catch him."

…

It occurred to me, very briefly, that I could just give them Eleazar.

They were after someone bigger than me, I think that's why they were so quick to make a deal. I was just the bait.

I thought about my old friend and all the information I knew he had. He knew enough to put us all away, I was sure. But he had a family and a new life and I didn't think I was capable of stooping so low, not anymore anyway.

So instead I gave them me and they gave me my freedom.

…

The cab pulled to a stop at the curb, the wipers working hard against the sheeting rain. The driver said something to shake me out of my thoughts and I paid him before stepping out onto the sidewalk. Awkwardly balanced, I flipped the collar up on my jacket in an attempt to keep the water from trailing into my shirt, but it didn't work.

I got to the door and tried to work myself up to open it. But instead, I could only think about all the ways this could go wrong. What if he didn't show? What if there was nothing to give? If I failed, would I go to jail? I moved my hand and took a step back. A couple passed by me, rushing to get inside. I could hear her laughter and I thought about Bella. She hadn't smiled, one of those real smiles, in so long. I wondered if the time for that had passed, but then I remembered how she kissed me before I left. It didn't feel like goodbye.

"Hey, are you going inside or what?" The familiar voice spoke up from behind me, his accent lighter now that he was sober.

I'd run out of time to work up the courage so I shrugged and gripped the door handle. "Yeah."

"It's rainy as fuck out here. Get a table." He took off his jacket and headed toward the bar.

I found a booth as far from everyone else as I could and sat down, leaning my crutches next to me. I didn't have any plan that I thought would work. The agents had gone over everything with me, what to ask and how, but they didn't know Eleazar. Even I didn't know him, really, but he was the closest I had in this life to a friend. I was banking on whatever good faith we still had to end this fucking nightmare once and for all.

He sat down across from me, setting an open bottle near my hands. I took it, if only to look busy.

"What's going on?" Eleazar glanced at my cast, partially hidden under my jeans.

"James," I said. He knew enough that he put the pieces together pretty quickly.

He nodded, unsurprised. "Where is he now?"

"Dead."

He raised an eyebrow. "About damn time."

I tried not to think about Bella, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to make everything right for her, somehow.

As if reading my mind, Eleazar asked, "So, what am I doing here, Edward?"

I gripped the beer bottle between my hands, the condensation gathering on my fingers. This was it, if he couldn't help me I probably wouldn't live long enough to see the inside of a jail cell. "I'm done with it, I'm out."

"I gathered that, better get out of town pretty quick." He paused, his expression wary. "You're not asking for money, are you?"

"No, and I'm not running either."

He watched me, reading my face.

"I want to take him down." When he didn't get up and leave, I leaned forward, eager. "He's broke, Eleazar. That's why he was so hell bent on this last job. Whatever loans he has are due and he has nothing to pay them with. This is the perfect -,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I talked to Tanya -,"

"You talked to his wife?"

"Yeah, but she's too afraid of him to do anything. I need your help."

He leaned back, the distance mental as well as physical. "What do you want?"

"Evidence, something concrete that I can pin on him," I tried not to sound like I was about to beg.

He remained impassive, but I could see his tells – stiffening of the posture, the bob of his throat when he swallowed. After a minute, he asked, "and what do I have to do with this?"

A guy that had clearly had too much to drink sauntered over, looking for something or someone. I waited until he left before answering. "I know you have something."

It was the only way I could figure it. He still lived in California, out in the open with his wife. I knew my employer would never have let him go so easily; it didn't make any sense. I just couldn't believe it took me this long to figure it out.

When Eleazar didn't say anything, I continued. "You blackmailed him, you did something. Whatever you've got on him, it's enough that he leaves you alone. I want to know what it is."

He was shaking his head before I finished talking. "You must be out of your damn mind."

"Eleazar, just listen to me – he's not invincible -,"

"Why are you so desperate all of a sudden?"

"Because I don't want to run, I want the fuck out. Look, I can leave you out of it. It'll all be me, my evidence against him."

"You think he won't figure it out?" Eleazar pushed his still full beer aside. It looked like he was getting ready to leave.

"He won't, I'm at the top of his list right now. I -,"

"They got to you, didn't they," he didn't phrase it like a question. "The police or, or the FBI or something, they got to you." He was already sliding out of the booth. "I can't fucking believe this."

I tried to jump up, but my cast kept me from doing anything quickly. Leaning heavily on my good leg, I grabbed his sleeve. "Eleazar, I told you, I'll keep you out of everything. They don't want us; they're trying to get to him."

"Yeah, by going through me," he pulled his arm out of my grasp and then moved into my space. "You brought this to my doorstep, Edward." He didn't say anything else, but the threat was implied. _If this causes trouble for me, I'll cause trouble for you_.

I tried once more, willing to say anything. "He wants her dead, Eleazar. What if it was your wife?"

He paused and I knew I had him caught. I exhaled heavily in the relief that hit immediately. And then he backed away, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, I can't…,"

My mouth dropped in surprise. I stuttered over his name, trying to think of more to say, anything that would keep him here. But I couldn't think fast enough.

He took another step back, his hands raised. "I can't help you, man. Not this time." He turned around and strode out, taking my future with him.

…

For reasons I didn't understand, I wasn't taken into custody right away. I didn't know if it was just a matter of time or if my attempt to bring evidence against my employer was enough. It had been explained to me at one point, but it was a fog.

I'd failed. I'd failed at the one thing I'd ever tried to do right.

I hobbled into my darkened room after the debriefing, knocking my crutch on the dresser. It threw me off balance; I barely righted myself before I hit the ground. "_Shit_," I half whispered, letting my crutches fall. I hated those fucking things.

"Edward?" A sleepy voice called from the direction of my bed. A light clicked on a second later. Bella had fallen asleep fully clothed on top of the blankets. Somehow though, she was missing a sock.

"Hey, baby, go back to sleep." It looked like she was pretty much there already.

She nodded and lay back down, curling her legs up underneath her.

I changed and because I couldn't stay away, I crawled in next to her, situating the covers over the both of us. I missed touching her.

She sighed. "I'm glad you're back."

"Me too." I kissed her neck and then her shoulder because I could.

Just as I was drifting off, Bella spoke up again. "What happened to my sock?"

I couldn't tell if she was talking in her sleep or not. "You tell me."

She readjusted so that she was on her back. Her eyes were closed and I could just make out her profile in the dark. "I don't know…my foot got hot."

I smiled in spite of everything, tracing the outline of her face with the tip of my finger. She scrunched up her nose and then stretched before quieting for good a couple minutes later.

It was a long time before I found any sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about Bella and how peaceful she looked. She had no idea. She thought it was finally over. And I wanted to live in that world with her for a little while. So I held her tightly and forced myself to forget that it might never be over.

…

There were noises invading the really good dream I was having. I felt the memory of it growing dim as the sounds got louder.

There might have been a beach, or a whole deserted island. I wanted to get back to it; Bella was there.

In that confusing place between sleeping and being awake, all the noise started refining into a few distinct and urgent voices. As it became clearer, I started to listen.

"Do you think it's the truth?"

"We won't know 'til we see everything," Dalakis was talking to the other agents in the front room. I glanced at the clock – 4 a.m.; I wondered if they'd ever gone to bed. "John," he said, the order implicit.

"I'm on my way." I heard the door close a moment later.

I was awake fully now and fighting the urge to get up and ask them what was going on. I leaned up on my elbow, careful not to rouse Bella.

They were saying something else, but I couldn't make it all out. I heard the words "protective custody." One of them was on the phone, shooting questions rapid fire at the person on the other end. What the hell was happening?

I heard the snap of a cell phone closing and then for a second, it was completely quiet.

"You know what this could mean, right?" One of the agents asked.

Dalakis answered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "We fucking _got_ him."

* * *

Author's Note: Hi, thanks to my pre-readers, and all of you guys. No announcements that I can think of this week, but I'm pretty sleepy and probably wouldn't remember them anyway.

Oh, and that attempted con job I mentioned earlier...no longer a problem. Long story short, I had a few tricks up my sleeve. Con _me_? Please.


	26. Twenty Five: Savior

Twenty Five: Savior

In the end, it wasn't me. It wasn't Eleazar or the FBI or the police. It didn't take an ambush or any kind of strategy at all.

It took one person and an impulsive middle of the night phone call. Someone that had had enough.

…

Bella woke up not long after my patience wore out and I got out of bed. I pulled on a shirt and hobbled in the dark to where I'd let my crutches fall.

"What are you doing?" She asked, pushing hair out of her face.

I didn't want to worry her, but she'd find out soon enough anyway. "Someone is coming forward or something. They're bringing him back here, I think."

She climbed out of bed and switched her pajama bottoms for a pair of jeans. After a minute in the bathroom, she came out looking awake and less nervous than I was.

I pushed the door separating us from the front room open, not sure who I would find there. We'd all spent several days in close quarters, but I still didn't have everyone's name down.

I recognized Agent Dalakis and the one assigned to watch Bella, plus the other agent whose name I'd never heard. They all looked in our direction, their excitement evident though they hadn't said anything to us yet. I expected them to hold back information, but instead Dalakis started talking immediately. "We're bringing someone in, you two are moving to Miss Swan's room for now."

It wasn't much, but it was about as forthcoming as he'd ever been.

He told us to grab our stuff, and we met him at the door when we were ready. Bella held onto my shirt sleeve and I wished for not the first time that my fucking leg wasn't broken so I could actually hold her.

There was an elevator nearby and we all stopped short when we heard it open. The agent that left earlier, John, stepped into the hallway first and I saw that he'd brought reinforcements. There was a woman flanking him on the right and a man behind her. Whoever they'd picked up was hidden between the three of them.

Dalakis tried to steer us to Bella's room, but our salvation appeared to be wrapped up in whoever it was coming down the hallway and we couldn't move. "Let's go." He ordered.

"Edward?"

I started at the familiar voice. "Tanya?"

She threaded her way between the agents and came to stand in front of me. The skin of her cheekbone was freshly split and bruised, but the black eye looked nearly healed, which meant they came from two different times. Her face was downcast.

I didn't know what to do. I wanted to reach out to her, but more, I wanted to kill my employer for doing this to her, to all of us really.

Tanya looked up, but not into my eyes. "I left him." Her jaw was tight and her arms were crossed, a contrast to the tears starting to fall down her cheeks.

Leaning a crutch against the wall, I used my free arm to pull her to me. She didn't loosen her posture, but she did let me hug her. I felt like I should say something, but nothing was big enough. So I just let her cry and whispered a quiet "thank you" into her hair and then I made a promise to myself that I'd look out for her, that I'd do something – anything I could to repay her.

When Tanya pulled back, her face was softer. She gave me a small nod and then looked over my shoulder to Bella. Something passed between them, but I had no idea what it might be. After a second, Tanya smiled and then backed away to rejoin the agents waiting a few steps behind her.

Dalakis led us to Bella's room, staying only long enough to tell us not to leave, before walking out again. We both stood there in the middle of the room, surprise turning into something else as we realized we might still make it out of this.

I always thought my life would kill me one day. Even before I met Bella, it was just something I knew. One of the people I'd stolen from would find me, my employer would come after me for making a mistake, I'd lie to the wrong person. There were so many ways to die, I felt like I was chasing it some days.

And then everything changed. I don't know if it was fate or God or luck or what, but freedom was so close I could taste it. I wished it didn't, but that knowledge fucking terrified me.

I hadn't lived in the real world in nearly a decade. What the hell was I supposed to do?

A small voice interrupted my thoughts. "Is it over?"

Bella's face was so hopeful I couldn't help but smile back. I set my crutches down and pulled her close, kissing her forehead, her temple, and then I skimmed over her bruised cheek to kiss her jaw. "I think so." I paused at her mouth, still not really believing that I was allowed to do this again. "I hope so."

Her arms came around me and she rose up on her toes a little. "Me too."

She kissed me, but it wasn't like the last time. This was a kiss with intention. And I was more than happy to oblige her. I tasted her lips before they parted for me and my tongue slid against hers. She stepped even closer so I held her tight until we were lined up everywhere. I remembered again about how I missed her. "Bella," I whispered the beginnings of an incomplete thought and somehow she caught the whole thing.

"Edward," she murmured back.

I smiled, ending our kiss prematurely. "Say it again."

She grinned, her eyes lighting up. "Edward," she said it playfully.

I fucking loved it when she said my name. Every single time.

I kissed her again until the only thing I could hear, the only thing I could feel, was her breath and mine. She put her hands in my hair and tugged. I groaned into her mouth.

Abruptly, she pulled back, but only a fraction. "Bedroom."

"What?" I asked stupidly.

Bella gave me a quick smile and pulled a little on the front of my shirt. "You heard me."

This was the part I'd thought about a lot. And in none of those thoughts was I wearing a cast on my leg. I wanted to pick her up. I wanted to feel her legs wrap around me when I carried her to bed. Instead, I had to follow her with a pathetic half limp half hop the few yards into the other room. She turned back once and I saw her bite her lip, holding back a grin. I was killing the mood.

In an effort to get us back to where we were, I grabbed her hips from behind and spun her to face me. Her lips parted and I took the bottom one between my teeth, pressing just enough for her to feel it before letting go. I tasted the same spot, taking my time with the kiss, working her up. Her hands held my shirt and I felt all the ways she pressed herself into me.

She moved backward and I followed. It was perfect, right up until the moment I slammed the shin of my broken leg on the bed frame. "Fuck."

Bella jumped. "What? Are you alright?" She looked me over, her eyes searching.

I tried to laugh, but I was frustrated, in more ways than one. I sat on the bed heavily, running a hand through my hair. "It's nothing, my cast…," I gestured to it. "I'm fine."

She stepped between my legs and I noticed that my face was level with her chest. "I hate it when you say that." I knew she meant it though she said it without any reproach.

I leaned my forehead against her, humming quietly when I felt her hands start trailing through my hair and down my neck. They made a slow loop, back and forth, her nails lightly scratching just the way I liked it. I put my hands on the backs of her legs, holding her in place like she might decide to leave at any minute.

After a short while, Bella put her hands on my shoulders and pushed me back. I had no idea what she wanted, but I leaned back anyway. I propped myself up on my elbows, my legs still hanging off the foot of the bed.

I watched her straddle my torso and I opened my mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say. She took the lead, stretching over to kiss me again. I felt the bed dip from the weight of her hands pressing into it. I tasted her, wondering if time could pause so we could stay like this as long as we wanted. But I knew it was an impossibility. Just like I knew with growing clarity that this would not be the way I imagined it when I was still Anthony.

"Bella," I said against her mouth.

She hmm'd and kissed me once more.

I felt like an idiot. "I…I don't know what the hell I'm doing…," I cursed myself for saying it this way, I cursed myself for everything. "This isn't…I've -," I shut up for a second, trying to string some kind of coherent thought together. "I've never done this…as myself, I mean. I don't know what to do…," I mumbled. If I could have crawled into a hole somewhere I would have done so gladly.

Bella didn't laugh or do anything of the things I thought she would. Instead, she kissed me again once and then sat up. She smiled softly. "I told you…," she did this little half shrug thing, "I'll help you."

I wanted to tell her I loved her, but she hadn't said it back and I didn't want her to feel forced into it. So I asked, "Kiss me?"

She licked her lips and I stifled a groan. And then she pulled her shirt over her head. "Bella," was all I could think to say before she leaned over me again.

"Yes?" She asked, a breath away from my mouth.

I tried to kiss her, but she pulled just far enough away that I couldn't.

"I…," I couldn't remember anything. "Uh -,"

She kissed me and I wanted to touch her so I fell flat against the mattress, not breaking contact. Her skin was so damn soft.

I ran my fingers along her sides and it made her shiver. When I slid them behind her back and over her shoulders she pressed herself closer, her chest against mine. And as I kissed that spot under her jaw, she sighed.

I tasted wherever I could reach, I took her earlobe between my teeth and she moaned in my ear. I memorized that sound.

Her skin was heating under my touch and I could feel her restrained movements over my growing erection. I wanted to push against her, but for now I was following her lead. She didn't seem to want to stop, so I didn't. I slipped her bra strap down and moved my lips over her shoulder.

When she sat up, I went with her, my hands on her hips. She pulled on the hem of my shirt so I took it off. The thought occurred to me that I'd always do whatever she wanted. I really meant it when I told her I'd let her boss me around for the rest of my life. This woman owned me.

Sometime during this, her other bra strap slipped off and I took advantage, sliding my tongue over the place it used to be. I made my way between her breasts and I felt her hips grind into my lap. I lingered there, feeling her heat and her breath by my ear. When I needed more, I undid the clasp, sweeping the material off her and to the floor.

Bella looked down shyly.

"Hey." I kissed her collar bone and then a little lower. "You're beautiful." I continued my path until she relaxed in my arms. She kissed the side of my face and I smiled.

I made my way down, closer and closer, until my lips closed over her nipple.

"Edward," she gasped.

I fucking loved it.

I paid attention to both, going as slow as I could manage. But Bella was done with going slow.

"I need you," she panted.

I grinned against her skin. "You have me," I teased.

She moved in my lap to prove her point.

Together, we shed the last of our clothes. My injury and awkwardness only amplified when Bella had to help pull my pants off. It didn't faze her though and soon enough she was in my lap again, my back flat against the bed.

"Bella," I breathed. I didn't know what I wanted to say. That I loved her, that she was the most gorgeous creature I'd ever seen, that there could never be anyone else, that I wanted her. I tried to say something, but she silenced me with her mouth.

I could feel her over me, everywhere. She led the way, pushing down onto me slowly. I had to close my eyes as she let me fill her. "Fuck," I moaned.

When I opened my eyes, she was looking at me, her expression concerned. I had to laugh a little, embarrassed. "That was a good 'fu- that was a good thing."

Bella relaxed, a small smile playing at her lips. When she started moving, I resisted the urge to say it again.

She went achingly slow, at first. I matched her rhythm and touched her skin and tried to memorize what she liked. When I wanted to kiss her again, I pulled her down on top of me so I could reach her mouth.

With that small adjustment, her movements changed. She sped up and I slid my fingers from her waist to her hip and then to her center. I had to touch her. Her moans were quiet but continuous and I knew I had to be doing something right.

Her body tightened around me and I wanted to think about something else to slow things down, but there was nothing in my mind except Bella. And she didn't seem to want anything to slow down.

She kissed my mouth and then pressed her face close to me. I gripped her hips and moved her with me, over and over.

"I'm – I -," she started, but was unable to finish.

I felt everything about her tighten again and I let her ride it out. When she moaned my name I fucking came apart. I pressed her against me and cursed under my breath. I felt her trembling, her lips parted near my jaw. And then I felt everything, her skin and her breath and something like electricity in my veins. I wrapped my arms around Bella to keep her close.

She breathed a quiet yes and then came down slowly, her body relaxing inch by inch. Soon enough, we'd readjusted so she could curl around me, a leg over mine, my arm over her.

On the edge of sleep, I murmured that I loved her.

…

I woke up to bright light streaming in from the window and a small sleeping weight over half my body. I didn't want to wake Bella, but I realized now that though we were alone in the room, our privacy was limited. I stroked her arm, her shoulder, and moved through her hair, my mind lingering on what we'd done. When I kissed her forehead, her eyes fluttered open.

She made a question sound, but didn't move besides a light stretch.

I grinned. "You know…they could come in here at any minute."

Bella sighed. "I'm awake."

I asked her what time it was, knowing she'd half to stretch back to see the clock. I watched with high interest.

"Just after twelve."

As the comfort of sleep and our momentary escape left us, we quieted. No one had come for us, which meant they were probably still talking to Tanya. How much information had she been holding on to all this time? I wondered what it was like to carry that.

We took turns showering and then moved to the front room for lack of anything better to do. The television was on low to some news program; it was more white noise than anything else.

"How much do you think she knows?" Bella asked the very thing I had been thinking about.

"I don't know. A lot, I guess. She was married to him almost as long as I worked for him." I looked down as I spoke, still ashamed of it. I couldn't say if I ever wouldn't be.

"Did he…do that to her?" She motioned to the fading bruise on her face.

I nodded, pulling her closer.

"She's very strong," Bella mused.

Before I could agree, I heard the door being unlocked. The agent that had been staying with Bella came inside, looking like he hadn't slept all night, which he probably hadn't.

"How's Tanya?" Bella asked, her worry evident. She was so concerned for someone she didn't know; I loved that about her.

"Fine, fine," he cleared his throat. "So," he started. "Her information checks out so far." He spoke with no inflection, but I could see that his energy was spiking again. "If it all pans out, we can make an arrest as early as tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I said it more in disbelief than in question. After all of this, it could be over, just like that, tomorrow.

The agent was talking again, something about my employer's business.

"What?"

"I said we're going to pull him right out of his morning meetings."

I didn't quite get what he was saying until he said it out loud. "It's going public." He said something about this being bigger than Bernie Madoff, but I wasn't listening anymore.

We were going to be news. I wouldn't be able to start over quietly like I'd hoped. I'd have to face it, face him, in front of everyone.

I had never been so fucking scared in my life.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to my pre-readers, and thanks to you :)

There are two more updates of this story left, possibly three. I wasn't planning on it, but I'm curious - are there any outtakes you'd like to see?


	27. Twenty Six: Guilty

Twenty Six: Guilty

His name was Marcus Sidorov, middle name – Aro. His brother was Mikhail Sidorov, Bella's former stepfather, if he could ever really be called that. From what Bella told me, she'd never actually met the man. My employer had been after that money for years, since it belonged to his brother. According to his team of lawyers, he had nothing to do with the death of Renee or Mikhail, but Bella has her suspicions. I don't think we'll ever find out for sure.

Sidorov immigrated to the United States in the late eighties, following in the footsteps of his much more successful older brother. His entire life as a U.S. citizen was under investigation, but he did a good job of covering his tracks and the FBI was having trouble filling in all the gaps.

But, in the end, that didn't matter much. Tanya found his private files in a safe in their home; the password was the date of their anniversary, how fucking sweet. It was enough to indict him on thirteen different counts of securities fraud, money laundering, and attempted murder. They didn't have enough to get him on a first degree murder charge, but the list connected to it was long. People I'd never heard of, people that just disappeared one day. When I thought about how I almost got Bella put on that list, it made me sick.

I was asked to testify if it came down to it. But that was a pretty big if, from what I heard, Sidorov was trying for a plea bargain. Unfortunately for him, there was so much evidence that it was unlikely he'd get one.

He was also asking to see me. And no matter the time and distance that would ever be put between us, the very idea of speaking to him face to face made my hands shake. I went to Bella with his numerous requests, hoping she'd somehow know exactly the right thing to say. She only ran her fingers through my hair and said she couldn't tell me what to do. We talked about it for a while, but I haven't come any closer to making a decision.

Bella and I were still living in the hotel, but that would be over soon. All of it would be over soon.

The night before we were due in court to hear Sidorov's plea, I couldn't sleep. By dawn, I gave up and was showered and mostly dressed by the time Bella woke up. She found me at the foot of the bed, looking into the mirror while I fixed my tie.

She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. She yawned. "Want me to do it?"

I didn't actually need the help, but my hands were fucking shaking and I couldn't concentrate long enough to loop the damn thing correctly. I saw Bella sitting up in the mirror; she crawled over sleepily, her pants pushed up her legs. She was self-conscious about it, but I liked the way she looked in the morning before she was totally coherent.

She kneeled behind me, her body pressed up against my back. Her arms came around and she fixed my tie quickly, not looking in the mirror once. When she was done, she rested her chin on my shoulder. "It'll be alright."

I found her hand and squeezed it. "I still think of him as my boss," I admitted. In truth, I thought of him as a lot more than that. He saved my life, I thought, and was a father when I needed one. But I would never say that shit out loud.

…

We had to park in a garage behind the courthouse to avoid the press. Dalakis and the other agent, Bella called him Stefan, escorted us inside and past the crush of people lurking around the inner doors. The media wasn't allowed in so it was quieter when we took our seats in the back.

It wasn't what I expected at all. The seats were like old church pews, and the people milled around like it was any other day. Closer to the top of the hour, they settled down and that's when I noticed Tanya. She sat in the front behind the district attorney, her posture ruler straight and unafraid while I sat in the back fighting the desire to bolt.

Bella grabbed my hand. I looked up, past Tanya to the front where they were leading in Marcus Sidorov. My employer.

"Edward," Bella whispered. I was holding her hand too tightly.

His eyes found Tanya first and then he refocused past her, searching for me. I pressed back into my seat, frozen. I wanted to look down, but I couldn't. Distantly, I felt Bella's other hand come to rest on top of the one she was already holding.

I held his gaze, unable to breathe or think or anything else. A decade passed between us and I read the accusation and betrayal in his face. He looked away first.

I put my arm around Bella's shoulders and listened to the proceeding. When it came time for Sidorov to enter his plea, he stood up.

"Guilty."

There was a murmur in the courtroom while people reacted. I heard a mixture of shock and satisfaction and suspicion. It was a trick, a lie, there was a plan behind this, my mind screamed at me.

Even the judge looked surprised. He explained what this meant in great detail, like Sidorov might change his mind.

"I understand," was his only answer.

And then it was over. They scheduled sentencing for the next week and then court was adjourned. It took less than an hour for me to get my life back.

…

**B**

Edward got sick in a trash can on the way back to the parking garage. The agents waited a safe distance away and I stayed close, rubbing circles on his back. After a minute he stood up straight, his face pale and damp with sweat.

"Sorry," he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just…yeah."

I nodded. "Let's go, ok?"

…

We were spending one more night in that hotel before we'd finally be able to go home. I didn't know what was going to happen after that. It felt sort of like this big chasm and I had no idea who would be waiting for me on the other side. I hadn't been allowed to talk to my friends or Charlie and I worried about them. I couldn't help but think they'd never forgive me, and that they'd never accept Edward in their lives. I remembered what I'd been telling myself, that this was a price I was willing to pay, but it was a lot easier in theory than in practice.

That evening, I got my cell phone back. I held it in my hands like a bomb. Where was I supposed to start?

Edward kissed the side of my head, knowing what I was going to do before I did. "I'll be in the front room if you need me."

Once I was alone, I hit a couple of buttons and put the phone to my ear. It only rang once.

"Bells?"

"Hi, Dad."

He sighed in what sounded like relief. "I missed you, kiddo."

My throat constricted around my words. "I missed you, too."

I told him what I was allowed to, that Edward had made a deal to stay out of jail and that someone had come forward with evidence. I told him that Marcus Sidorov had pled guilty, but he said he'd seen that on the news before I called. I wondered if Edward knew how fast it was all hitting the press.

"Um, there's one other thing…," my breath was shallow while I worked up some courage. Charlie waited. "I'm – Edward and I…we're…,"

"Bella." His voice was a warning.

"We're seeing each other."

He was quiet for a long time.

I started to ramble. "He's not the same, Dad. He started working for that man when he was a teenager and…by the time he knew better, it was like…he couldn't leave. He never knew any other way -,"

"He had parents, didn't he? Before, I mean."

"Well, yes, but…it's complicated." I didn't want to admit that I still didn't know much of anything about his parents. "He's trying, Dad. He stood up to Sidorov, he…he protected me when he could've run away -,"

"I don't like this, Bells. He's still a criminal, free or not. He tried to steal from you -,"

"And now he's trying to make it right."

"Too little, too late."

I was trying to understand his side, and I did for the most part, but that didn't stop me from getting angry. "Well I'm not going to just write him off. You don't have to like it. I'm…I'm not asking permission." There was sweat on my brow; I felt like a little girl talking back for the first time.

"Bella," he started. I could almost see him rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. "I think you're making a big mistake."

"Dad -,"

"Maybe he did save you, maybe he did change like you say, but if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't have needed saving in the first place." He paused, "Bells…he was one way for a long time, can you honestly tell me he's different now?"

He kept going before I could answer. "Do you trust him?"

I wanted to say yes right away, but I couldn't. The truth was, I didn't know. "It's going to take time, Dad."

I begged off after that before setting my phone down on the nightstand with a sigh.

"Hey." Edward was standing in the doorway, his expression unsure.

I smiled softly. "Hey," I patted the bed and he got in next to me.

"Did that…not go well?"

My eyes darted up to his.

"I wasn't listening," he said quickly. "I just overheard the last part."

I leaned back against the headboard, my body aching from the stress. I closed my eyes, letting my thoughts play out.

"Bella," Edward said after a moment. "Are you…I don't, I don't want to come between you and your father."

"You won't. He's just worried and…," I felt bad for saying the next part, "I guess, he has reason to be." I glanced up, expecting to see hurt in his eyes, but I didn't. He looked…determined.

"I can tell you all kinds of things you want to hear," he stated simply. "I'm…good at that…but you have no reason to believe me." He moved closer and I thought he was going to touch me, but he kept his hands on the mattress. "I know it's too much to ask, but…I want you too much not to ask." He looked afraid, like he was expecting to be crushed any minute, but he held my gaze anyway. "Let me prove it to you, Bella. I'll do whatever you want, just…let me try…please?"

It was a question I'd answered before he asked it. I nodded and before I could say anything, he grabbed me, pulling me over to sit between his legs. I laid my head on his chest and smiled at the way he wrapped around me. He pressed his lips to my hair, my temple, the shell of my ear. He touched my face like he'd forgotten what it felt like to do it before slipping his arms around my middle.

I listened to his heartbeat. "Edward?"

"Hmm?" He kissed the top of my head again and I snuggled into him a little more.

"I love you."

His heart sped up and his arms held me tighter. "I love you."

When it was all so complicated, my reason to stay was simple. I loved him.

…

I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and then I couldn't get back to sleep. I was antsy after spending so much time in that hotel room, but also, I was afraid what getting my life back would mean. I was going home tomorrow, we were going home.

Edward made a distracting sleepy groan and turned to his side. "What's wrong?" He asked.

I repeated my earlier worry. "We're going home tomorrow."

He brushed some hair away from my face and waited for me to keep going.

"I just…I don't know what's going to be waiting for me, or if anyone will be waiting for me, you know?"

"Your friends love you, Bella. And -,"

"But…,"

"None of this was your fault and as for everything else…give it some time."

I sighed and he grinned a little. "I'm sorry." He tugged on my shoulder and I tucked myself around him. "What I meant to say was that everything is going to be perfect. Life will go on just like you wanted and everyone will get along with everyone else."

"Will there be cake?"

He chuckled. "Of course there'll be cake."

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"What about you? Home, I mean."

He shrugged a little underneath me. "Well, I still have my apartment and I don't have a lot of money, but I'm not completely broke…,"

"I mean…home, home." Talking to my dad that afternoon had made me think about Edward's parents. I knew his father was alive and I wondered if he had any idea what had happened to his son. The news hadn't picked up Edward's name and we didn't know if it was just a matter of time. But when it all came out, we realized that the work Edward had done for Marcus Sidorov was miniscule in comparison to what Marcus had done himself.

"I don't know, it's been a long time." I could feel him playing with my hair, an almost unconscious gesture. "I don't know if he'd want to see me."

"Why not?"

His hand in my hair stopped. "Bella…,"

I brushed my thumb back and forth over his collarbone, waiting.

He took a deep breath and then started talking. "You know how I told you I was bad as a teenager? Well, I was…for no reason, really. I don't know…," he brought a hand up to touch his face or run through his hair, I couldn't tell. "I was an idiot…And my mom," he swallowed. "She tried really fu- really hard and I just didn't give a shit about anyone but myself.

"So one night she said that we were going out so she could 'get to know me again'." He shook his head. "It was like…she wasn't even mad anymore, she just wanted me back, you know?"

I nodded. I could feel his heart beat faster under my hand.

"So we went to dinner and just…talked. It was fine until I picked a fight in the parking lot, I don't even remember what it was about…fucking stupid," he muttered.

When he started again, his voice sounded thicker. "The parking lot was around back and…I didn't even see him 'til he was right there." He took a shuddering breath and I felt tears sting my eyes. "He just wanted our stuff, but I…tried to fight him, and then my mom…she got in the middle and…he just - shot her. Because of me. If I hadn't -,"

I leaned up a little, effectively cutting him off. "It wasn't your fault."

He wiped his eyes quickly. "How can you -,"

I ran my fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him and trying to keep my own tears at bay. "You were a kid trying to protect his mother. How were you supposed to know what would happen?"

Edward kept his eyes down. "My dad said if I'd been a better son in the first place, she'd still be alive."

I sat up all the way so I could see his face. There was so much shame there and I could feel it squeezing at my heart. But there was nothing I could think to say to ease even a fraction of that pain. "Edward, I don't think he meant it. He was just…he was hurting too." I was grasping at straws, quelling my desire to hunt down his father and smack him.

He lifted his watery gaze to mine. "I know, now, I mean. But he's still right, if I'd been the kind of person -,"

"Edward, you were a kid."

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard, pulling me back down against him. "Bella," he sighed. "It's been ten years."

I felt his hands moving through my hair again and I hoped it calmed him the way it did me. "Maybe ten years is long enough."

So much time passed that I thought he hadn't heard me. After a while, he said, "Maybe it is."

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to my pre-readers :), thanks to you guys, and a special thank you to the ladies that recommended this story on Fictionators. Does it make me sound like a creeper to say that I kinda love you right now? Honestly, it was one of the nicest reviews I've ever gotten, so thank you for that :)

There's one more chapter and an epilogue coming up before this is all done! For those of you that might be interested, I'll be posting a one-shot for Halloween. It's a second installment of Rosyln House that I'm pretty excited about; I'll be posting it as a second chapter so check that out in the next few days because it would make me happy.


	28. Twenty Seven: Once More with Feeling

Twenty Seven: Once More with Feeling

When we got to my apartment, my friends were waiting inside. After spending so many weeks away and then under the care of the FBI, I wasn't prepared for surprises of any kind. I screamed and jumped back into Edward, who hit the door frame hard in his effort to keep us both upright.

My friend's tentative smiles changed into looks of concern and apology.

"It was Alice's idea," Jasper said quickly.

She gave him a look and stepped forward while I caught my breath. She spoke carefully, as if afraid to spook me again. "I heard what happened to you guys," she tilted her head slightly to indicate Rosalie and Emmett. Alice's gaze moved between me and Edward and the judgment I expected to see wasn't there.

"We got your mail while you were…gone. And um, we had to throw away some of the stuff in your fridge, but we replaced it. So the milk is good and the cheese too…um…oh, we watered your flowers and opened the windows today because it was really stuffy in here and -,"

I burst into tears.

I felt Alice's arms come around me and I clung to her, sobbing into her hair. "You're here."

"Of course we're here."

They let me cry and break apart a little and when I was finally finished, they were there to help put me back together.

…

I woke up in the middle of the night and I couldn't remember where I was.

Rubbing my eyes, I wondered why I was alone; I hadn't been in so long. I waited to hear Stefan and Agent Dalakis in the front room, or the buzzing of someone's cell phone.

As my mind cleared, I realized I wasn't at the hotel anymore. I was home and my friends had been here, we were on the couch talking. I'd told them what I could; Edward sat on the fringes, not saying much of anything. I remembered feeling exhausted and now I was in my bed, alone and wide awake.

I pushed the covers off me and crossed the cold tiles into the darkened living room; I knew they were all gone, but I had to check anyway.

There were crutches propped against the wall and one bare foot hanging off the end of the couch. Edward had a pillow under his head and another in his arms. I was surprised my friends hadn't made him leave when they did. We hadn't talked about him, but I knew it was coming. They were easy on him today, probably for my sake. Still, I worried if they'd ever really accept him.

I kneeled down beside his head and ran my fingers through his hair. He stirred slowly and yawned in my face. When I laughed, he opened his eyes. "Oh," he said.

"Hey, what are you doing out here?"

He shrugged. "I didn't know if you'd want me in there."

I smiled softly, shaking my head. "Come to bed."

He followed me back to my room and got under the covers, waiting for me to pull off my jeans before wrapping his arms around me. "This is a lot more comfortable," he murmured, his mouth near my ear.

"How long were you out there?"

"Not long, you've only been asleep for about an hour."

I still frowned. "I fell asleep with my friends here."

Edward kissed the skin behind my ear. "They understood."

"Still…," I mused, thinking about what could have happened after I dozed off. "They weren't…they didn't say anything to you, did they?"

"Just Emmett, but I think he was speaking for all of them."

…

**E**

After seeing Bella cry like that, and the way her friends took care of her, I started questioning my place. My lack of place in her life, actually. She may have wanted me, but she didn't need me. She had so many people; everybody loved her.

When Bella fell asleep, her head on my shoulder, all eyes were on me. This was it, I thought. I knew I was about to be driven out of her life for good and a small part of me was alright with that. All of this had seemed unreal anyway.

This was the part where I woke up in my shitty apartment and realized that none of this happened. My employer still owned me and that's the way it would always be because someone like Bella had to be too good to be true. I only wished I could sleep for a little longer.

Because I wasn't able to do it myself, Emmett picked Bella up and put her in bed. No one said anything while he was gone. When he came back, they all began getting up, saying it was time to go. I felt like some kind of repellent.

They filed out the door, one by one, giving me uncomfortable smiles and quiet goodbyes. Emmett was the last one out. He put his hand on my shoulder, but it was more of a threat than a friendly gesture.

"I don't like you, Cullen…or whatever you're calling yourself now."

I kept my mouth shut. I knew of all her friends that Emmett was the most protective. Bella was like his sister and there was nothing I could say in that moment that would even remotely change his mind.

He let go of me, sighing. "But…what you did for her…," he nodded a little. "She loves you. I don't know why, but she does. So, this is it, man. You've got a long damn way to go and this is your last shot. Don't fuck it up."

I shut the door behind him and leaned back on it. He was right, this was my last shot. But not just with Bella, with everything. If I couldn't make this work, there would be nothing left.

…

"Are you ready?" Bella's eyes were full of worry and I knew I must look as sick as I felt.

I nodded, pulling off one shirt to change into something else.

"Hey," she said, coming to stand right in front of me. She brushed her fingers through my hair, changing it from one impossible mess to another. "You're not there to impress him."

I couldn't find the words to explain it to her, so I didn't, but I think she knew anyway. She was smart like that.

Bella was still warm from the shower and in a towel so I pulled her in close, hoping to distract her. She chuckled, but didn't move away. "Nice try." After a minute, she kissed my chest and took a step back.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to."

It would make today so much easier. I sighed, feeling my nerves steadying for the moment. "Yeah, I think I do."

…

Since I still couldn't drive and Bella was busy, I had to take a cab into the Valley and then out again, toward the desert.

The taxi pulled in to a visitor's lot with some wariness before letting me off. I paid the fare before making my way inside and through line after line of security. I was passed through metal detectors, wanded and patted down pretty fucking thoroughly before finally meeting with a lawyer and guard on the other side. They were both dressed in grey, which mixed well with the concrete misery of this place.

The lawyer's name was something Caius; he was first chair for my employer and I didn't trust him for a second, but I was here anyway. What did that say about me?

He'd explained over the phone that Sidorov was about to be transferred out of state and that if I was ever going to see him again, I had to do it soon. I wanted to say no, hang up, and be done with it, but I couldn't. Even from behind bars, my employer told me what to do and I listened to him.

Caius and the guard led me to a long room split down the middle. The prisoners went on one side of the glass and the visitors went on the other. For a second I was distracted by the thought of how close I was to not being on this side. I sat at the fourth chair down and the lawyer left to wait elsewhere.

My employer was led in shackled at the wrists; the orange jumpsuit made him look sickly. His formerly long hair was cut short and crude by someone that didn't really know what they were doing. There was grey at his temples.

I wiped my palms on the legs of my pants and picked up the phone on my side. He took his and said hello like he was calling me for a job instead of from jail.

"What am I doing here?" I was trying to sound strong, but I knew I was failing. In reality, my heart was pounding and I was pretty sure I was about to be sick.

He laughed, sounding pleased. "My, my, you've certainly grown up."

I opened my mouth to say something decidedly not fucking grown up, but he cut me off.

"You were never one for idle conversation."

I just watched him, waiting for something.

"I must say I'm disappointed in you, -,"

"Disappointed? You tried to have us killed." I gripped the receiver tightly, hoping it was sturdy.

He looked at me impassively. "I told you James gets carried away. Why would I want you dead? I wanted you to take over."

I couldn't help the look of surprise. I covered it quickly, but not quickly enough.

"You were good at what you did, son. So you had a lapse in judgment? You're young. It can be forgiven…in time, of course." He smiled slightly. "You have such a bright future ahead of you. And you can have anything you want. All you have to do is take it."

He waited for my response, but I didn't really have one. I swallowed. "Wh-what do you want?"

"Nothing has to stop, don't you see that? _You're_ still out there." He leaned back a little in his chair. "And I have to say, that was pretty good work, saving yourself the way you did. I can't begrudge you that."

I wanted to deny it. I wanted to tell him that I didn't give him up to save myself; I did it because it was the right thing to do, but I couldn't find my voice. I felt eighteen again, on the street with nowhere to go. I remembered him from that first night, when I got in his car, and the way he scared me, even then. He'd always been this shadow, my nightmare.

A month ago even, I would have been ashamed at what I'd done to him, at what I'd reduced him to. I would have tucked my tail between my legs like a goddamn dog and stuttered and begged for this forgiveness that he was so graciously offering. The different ways I could apologize came to mind even now without my trying.

And then it all went away. Watching him, with the faded orange jumpsuit and the dark circles under his eyes, he wasn't my employer or my father or my confidant.

There was nothing great and powerful about him at all. Behind the curtain, he was just a desperate old man at the end of the line. I was the only thing he had left.

I sat up, the phone still pressed to my ear. He watched, waiting to hear me stutter and say yes, sir. "Sidorov," I started. I wanted him to hear this.

He looked at me in question, his face calm.

"You can rot in here."

…

Bella was already there when the cab pulled onto the winding road. He parked behind her at the curb barely long enough for me to pay the fare and get out, a bouquet of lilies in my hand. I made my way to her car and tapped on the window. She startled and then smiled, looking a little embarrassed. I hated that she was so jumpy now, but I needed time to make it better. Luckily, she was giving that to me. She motioned for me to get in so I went around to the passenger side.

It smelled like flowers when I opened the door. I saw a huge bouquet on the backseat and I added mine to it. "Those are pretty."

"Sterling roses," she said softly.

I sat facing the windshield, giving Bella time to do whatever she needed.

After a little while, she asked how my day went. "Fine, told my old boss to shove it," I joked lamely.

She turned to face me, reaching for my hand. She didn't say anything, but suddenly I was fighting back tears.

"It's over, baby…finally."

She smiled, stretching over the center console to kiss me.

We talked for a few minutes about what happened because I knew she wanted something more specific than my stupid comment.

When I was finished, I asked about the trip she made into Los Angeles to see her trustees. She was down by one, actually. We'd learned while living at the hotel that Victoria Van Leuven, her financial planner and Sidorov's inside man, had taken off. Officially, she was only wanted for questioning, but I knew she was in for a lot more than that. The FBI wasn't deeming her a threat, without Sidorov's financial backing, they believed it was only a matter of time before she was found. Personally, I didn't think she'd ever be seen again.

"It took some convincing. Mr. Jenks thinks I'm making a mistake."

"What do you think?"

She sighed and I took her hand. I wanted to touch her all the time now, because she was here and because she actually let me. "I think…I think my mom meant well, but…I never needed that much money."

I kissed the hand I was holding and kept it close to my mouth.

"It'll take a little while to get it all done, but we decided to split it between a few charities."

I smiled. I knew what she was planning, but I was still floored by her generosity. I don't think I would ever really understand how someone this good could want me.

She kept talking like it wasn't a big deal. "Jenks is going into overdrive on this," she lifted half her mouth in a smile. "He wants to know exactly where each dollar is going to go."

Bella explained that she was making all the donations anonymously and that it would take a few weeks before everything was finalized. She flushed a little when she told me she wasn't giving all of it away.

"I'm keeping enough to finish school, if I'm still in the program." She had a meeting with the dean in the next week to find out for sure.

"And I have enough to live on for a while…and then some for Charlie." She still didn't know what she was going to do for him, but she wanted the money there for when she figured it out.

I didn't know how much she meant by "enough", but I didn't ask and she didn't tell me.

I leaned over, cupping her face with my hand. "I'm so proud of you."

She shied away from the praise, changing the subject to the reason we were here. "Ready?" She asked, but then rescinded. "Actually, do you mind if I go by myself?"

I told her that I didn't and she got out of the car, taking the roses with her. I watched her step carefully onto the grass and between the headstones, searching for Kate's. When she found it, she kneeled down and I looked away. Bella may have forgiven me, but her friend was gone because of who I was and what I did.

She was there for several minutes and when she got back, her eyes were wet. I reached for her as much as the confines of the car would allow, but she waved me off. "I'm fine," she said automatically. She didn't seem to catch the phrase until just after it passed her lips. "Well, not really…but I will be."

With that, I grabbed the lilies and got out, following the small indentations in the damp grass from Bella's feet. The headstone was a faint pink marble, surrounded on all sides by flowers. My few were sad in comparison. Awkwardly balanced, I lowered myself to the ground, setting the flowers in one corner next to Bella's roses. I wiped some dried leaves and fallen petals from the cool surface.

_Beloved daughter, sister, friend._

I kept my hand on it, like somehow that would mean something. My throat tried to close around my words, but I wanted to say it all out loud.

"Kate…,

"I just w-wanted…to say thank you for – thank you for protecting her when I didn't, and for being her friend…," I rubbed my eyes, feeling wholly unworthy of being here.

"I'm so sorry. I'm…I just -," _Fuck_, none of the things I wanted to tell her were coming together.

And I think that was just it. I couldn't fix this or make it any better; I couldn't talk my way out of it. There wasn't anything at all I could say. So I sat there for a while, hoping that wherever she was, she could feel what I couldn't make into words.

I got up slowly, trying to get my bearings and my balance. Before I left, I said, "I'm sorry, Kate. I feel like…I feel like I don't even deserve the chance, but – I'm going to do better…for her and – for you too."

…

I pulled Bella onto my lap; it was the place I usually liked her to be. She leaned against me and we had one those perfect moments that only ever last a second, where everything is all right. Bella put her hand on my chest and I knew she was feeling my heart beat. I knew it because I found myself doing the same thing to her from time to time.

After a while, she sighed and stretched, readjusting so we were facing each other. She kissed me, slow and full of promise. I wrapped my arms around her, hoping to keep us right there forever.

Before she pulled away, I touched my forehead to hers. "Hey."

Bella smiled, "Hey back." She kissed me again, quickly, before sitting up a little more. Her gaze moved to the right and then left, as if searching for something. When she was finished, she looked at me. "So, what now?"

I knew she meant in the big way, but still I said, "Chinese?"

"Edward," she pushed lightly on my shoulder, but I could see her fighting a smile.

I pulled her closer and kissed her cheek, her forehead, and the tip of her nose. "Say it again."

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to my pre-readers and all of you :)

This was the last chapter; there's an epilogue that I'll be posting soon and then that's it! Also, the playlist for the story is finished; it's on my homepage (link in my profile) if you're interested.


	29. Epilogue: Edward Cullen

Author's Note: I don't have a specific time frame, so let's call this some time in the not too distant future...

* * *

Epilogue: Edward Cullen

Charlie Swan scared the shit out of me. Add to that the fact that he didn't like me and it took his intimidation to a new, more frightening level. He didn't talk much, but he had so many guns that they required a safe, that was warning enough for me.

After a very awkward first meeting and dinner, Charlie made it clear I would be sleeping on the couch. Bella, however, made it clearer that I would not. He grumbled something under his breath, but didn't argue. I followed Bella up the stairs, wondering if he could hear both sets of footsteps.

His loathing aside, I liked Charlie. He loved Bella in that unchangeable way I could understand.

Bella shifted on the narrow bed we were sharing, throwing one of her legs over mine. I pulled her closer, trying to fall asleep.

…

_I'd just gotten off the phone and I knew I wasn't hiding anything when Bella walked in the door and immediately asked, "What's wrong?"_

_She came over, sitting on the arm of the couch. I didn't want to bother her with it, but she started running her fingers through my hair and I couldn't not say it._

"_I called my dad today."_

…

When Bella shifted again, I got up, feeling restless. I wanted to stay under the blankets with her, but I couldn't turn my mind off. This new life, while mine, came with a lot of uncertainty that I was just barely learning how to deal with.

…

_She slipped down so she was sitting on the couch itself, facing me. I kept my eyes off her because if I looked, I'd never be able to get it all out. She waited quietly, giving me space._

"_His wife answered…her name is Esme." I shrugged. "She's nice." I fidgeted, but didn't notice how much until Bella's hand covered mine. "Oh…yeah, sorry."_

"_She's a school teacher. They've been married for uh – three years."_

_Bella scooted closer. "Edward…,"_

_I shook my head. "It's alright." But it wasn't, not really. I'd missed this whole part of my dad's life, the part where he'd moved on without me._

…

The rain fell in heavy drops outside. Bella told me to get used to it while we were here, but I'd gotten too familiar with dryness and city noises. I leaned my forehead on the window, hoping for a police siren or a car alarm. Instead, I heard the soft rustling of blankets behind me.

"Edward?" She asked, leaning up on her elbow.

"Hey, baby."

"Can't sleep?"

I was still wide awake, but Bella looked adorable half asleep the way she was. She lifted the covers for me and I crawled in next to her; she shivered against me.

"Your skin's so cold." Despite that, she pressed closer, pulling the blanket up over her head.

I wrapped my arms around her to feel the heat.

"Edward?" She mumbled.

I kissed the top of her head in response.

"It'll get better. You'll see."

…

"_I talked to him…my dad. It was…," I didn't know what to say about it or how to deal with the shit I was feeling. So instead of trying to analyze it, I just told her what happened._

_He'd been so fucking happy to hear from me. What was I supposed to do with that? I wasn't used to happy unless it was coming from Bella. So I got mad. I yelled at him. I accused him of things and told him everything I'd done, how many people I'd hurt to survive and how many people I'd hurt because I was good at it. I laid it all out. I wanted him to hurt too._

_And then he called me son. He told me my mom's death wasn't my fault. It sounded like he'd been waiting years to say it._

_He said he was sorry and I knew there wasn't really anything he had to apologize for and I wanted to say it back, but I couldn't. So I made up an excuse to get off the phone._

"_Wait." He'd said quickly. "Will I hear from you again?" He said it with so much fucking hope that it broke me._

"_Yeah," I promised. "Yeah…Dad."_

…

Bella woke up before I did. I felt her fingertips on my stomach and I kept my eyes closed because I was afraid she'd stop if I moved.

"I know you're awake," she said.

I grinned, but kept my eyes closed.

"Gonna play it that way?" She said mischievously. Her hand moved lower, tracing the waistband of my pants before just barely slipping inside. Everything tightened under her touch.

I swallowed, trying to remember what game we were playing.

Her hand was a little above where I really wanted it to be and her lips were on my neck. Yeah, whatever it was, she won.

I opened my eyes and grabbed her wrists, pinning her underneath me. I kissed her, tasted her, like we had all the time in the world. My hands loosened their hold and she wrapped her arms around me. I felt one slim leg curve over mine, her foot pressing into the back of my calf. She pulled on me; she said she liked to feel my weight, but I was always afraid of hurting her.

There was a creaking on the stairs. Bella didn't seem to notice.

"What was that?"

"Huh? Oh, my dad probably." She put her hand on my face, trying to redirect my attention.

I wanted to, holy shit I wanted to, but I couldn't. "Bella…I'm not having sex with you in your dad's house."

"Why not?" She pushed her hips up and I groaned.

"Trust me," I said, my mouth at her ear. "There's nothing I want more than to be inside you…," I trailed off, distracted by the idea and by her soft curves in my hands. "But…uh…," I heard the sound of a faucet running somewhere. "I can't…,"

"He won't come in here," she said quickly.

She felt so good around me.

"You kids up?" A loud voice called from the other side of the door.

I pressed my face into the crook of Bella's neck as she said that yes, we were awake.

We got ready and met Charlie downstairs in his half ripped out kitchen. That was Bella's gift to him; she paid off his house and tried to pay for renovations as well, but Charlie wasn't having it. He insisted that if she was going to spend money on him, he would do the renovations himself. Privately, Bella said she was giving him two weeks and one trip to the hospital before he called a contractor. We were here for a few days to help and to make sure he didn't hurt himself.

"What's the plan today, Dad?" Bella stepped further into the room while I lingered behind her in the doorway, trying not to take up any space.

"Well, I want to take these out," he knocked on a cabinet near the fridge. "And the countertop, gonna replace it with this." He went to the kitchen table where some granite samples sat. "It's called 'giallo' something," he explained.

"Hmm, looks good." She glanced in my direction, noticing that I hadn't moved.

Charlie looked at her for a second and then at me. His gaze was appraising, but there was no anger there. "Edward."

It was the first time he'd called me by my name.

Bella watched him, her face encouraging.

He hesitated. "…feel like giving me a hand?"

"Uh…yes…sir, yeah." I stepped forward, waiting for directions.

Bella smiled behind her father's back. _See?_ She mouthed.

God, I fucking loved this woman. And she loved me back.

Me, Edward Cullen.

end

* * *

Author's Note: jedigirlsc, SabLuvsLogan, and SydneyAlice, your help and words of encouragement made this a better story, thank you. Lasergirl20, holy smokes, I couldn't have done this without you. Whether you realize it or not, your financial knowledge inspired SO much of the narrative. I hope you liked being a good guy :) And to everyone that read, reviewed, recommended, alerted, and so on, well...I sorta love you all. This has been one of the best writing experiences I've ever had, thank you for that.

So...what's next? Well, I've just started writing my next story. The plot is a secret :) But I'll tell you this much: There's romance, possible insanity, a lot of mystery, an island, and a bad guy, or guys, or girl. Put me on alert if you'd like.

'Til next time :)


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